Thursday, November 18, 2004

Thursday, must be Kalimpong

DARJEELING

Sorry to readers tiring of seeing sign in after sign in from Darjeeling - not authentic travel blog if one holes up in a hill station for the duration of it. Calcutta - and another attempt to love that city - tomorrow, stay tuned.

Had actually written a few paragraphs - witty, insightful stuff - but the lights went out in my cafe, the generator was on a delay, and Blogger's not designed for towns with power issues. So a fresh start, hope to be as insightful...

Day started with a hearty breakfast of porridge and brown toast at the foreigner-popular Glennary's cafe. They tune in the BBC, offer The Statesman for free, make excellent croissants and besides a miserable mural on one wall, offer a relatively cute decor with a fine view when there's a view to be had.

Today was hill station #2 - the less (farther, smaller, grubbier, less famous and worse preserved) hill station of Kalimpong. Spectacular drive there - down through the tea terraces (sadly, missed picking season so no local color amongst the scrubby bushes),
up for a stretch to a spectacular view of the turquoise Teesta river (and just beat a van of bengali tourists), down to the Teesta itself (cleanest river in all of india - must be), across and then back up through teak forests to Kalimpong.



Driver shoehorned a side-trip to the unbelievably dull Kalimpong Cactus Nursery into the itinereray. Rare breeds of cacti from South America - everyone's real reason to visit this part of India? But followed with another monastery - bringing the total to 5 in 3 days - and one full of action.

The monastery was hosting a senior lama from Gangtok and I was hospitably ushered in to witness the ceremonies on his behalf. Must read up on tibetan buddhist ceremonies as they're pretty opaque observed from the periphery. All the monks appear tuned in to a higher wavelength, taking cues from the unseen. Silence, some shufling and whispering amongst the younger monks as they try to find their place in the prayer pages, and then a deep boooom from the long horns and the conch followed by chanting - which stops abruptly and the shuffling silence begins again. Also an altar being loaded high with offerings - bags of rice and candies and lots of nice things, precariously piled onto towering plates by monks with covered mouths. Hmmm.

ead nod from the monk at the door granted permission to take photos, but did so guiltily - resulting in lots of blurred images of bits of robes and corners of the ceiling and the floor. Photography requires a certain level of confidence and prayers-be-damned attitude - need that.


Mist rolled in for the drive back - which means nap time so nothing at all to report from that leg.

And now I prepare for departure and descent. Have booked the same van driver to take me to the airport tomorrow at 8am. He's a lovely Nepalese gentleman and his mini van's a plush chariot - bright green astroturf on the van floor, nubbly black fabric on the seat and all windows open. And he speaks a little english and appears to have a wicked sense of humor - muttered "elephants" when two over-exposed, under-exercised Israeli girls passed to enter the monastery...

Will miss the monasteries in Calcutta but will pick up with Thailand's orange monks in Bangkok : )

Love from last night in Darjeeling. Will have a beer at Joey's pub and call it an early night. Joey, and eponymous pub, both local legends - he an ex-Ghurka who used pension money from the British army to establish the very British bar and trick it out with Manchester United pennants and chalk board menus of bangers and mash. Settle in with a pint and listen in as the regulars tell tall tales and foreigners earnestly trade travel tips (the same travel tips that have been traded for years, and all based on Lonely Planet itineraries).



And an aside - found out last night that my hotel, the esteemed Olde Bellevue with its perch on the hill and its tilting veranda - was built as a sanatorium for loopy British officers. A place with good mountain air, well away from locals and the saner officers, to straighten up and cool off. And there are rumors of a ghost...

C

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