I am probably at my lowest ebb yet on this trip. Nothing terrible but I'm feeling a bit lost and lonely.
I could have titlled this blog Facing Mount Kanchenjunga but fear it lacks originality. Yesterday I took a taxi (300 rupees) to the top of Deolo Hill, eulogised in the Rough Guide (not Lonely Planet) as comanding a superb vista, which it does though much of it was disguised by the ever present mist. Still, I was sitting in a restaurant there eating my egg sandwich and quaffing my pot of milky coffee (literally) and looking down to the Teesta river, with Sikkim on t'other side, West Bengal on this and somewhere in the distance, invisible to my eye, Mount Kanchenjunga. ANYWAY, I enjoyed the tripple decker egg sandwich and the very tasty finely sliced tomatoes which surrounded them.
I did not actually spend too much time on Deolo Hill as it was a bit like a tacky seaside resort minus souvenir shops and those individual rides, horses or cars, that I used to so hanker for a go on. Instead I started on the 4 km walk back to Kalimpong. On the way down I passed the Eagle paragliding club and declined the offer of an accompanied glide. About 100 metres further down the hill I was reconsidering my decision. Surely it was for adventures like this, rather than the collection of Buddhist memorabilia, that I had come to India for. After several aborted walks back up the hill I made my mind and my way up, signed the waiver form, paid my money (surely a tourist rate of 3000 rupees) and allowed myself to be strapped in to a paraglider like some fairly scared child.
A few minutes later, we (Rishi being the other part of we and the one who held my fate in his hands) were airborne and around ten to fifteen minutes later we had safely landed, not before some quite unwelcome acrobatics on Rishi's part, on the playing field of the famous Doctor Graham school. Unstrapped I made my way uncertainly from it to continue my journey back to Kalimpong (upward journey 300 rupees, downard journey - part way - 3000 rupees). I have no regrets! This is why I came to India..
On the way down I passed yet another Buddhist monastery which I was going to pass by on the other side so to speak. In the further spirit of adventure, however, I made the steep climb past the inevitable football match and was finally invited into a loung area where I was offered tea and some sort of nibble. The monk I spoke too was very proficient in English and proceeded to tell me a little about monastic life, which is not as rosy as it may seem.
From this Sakya monastery I made the rest of the journey fairly quickly back to Kalimpong, to my hotel and then down to Gompus for a surprisingly and frankly unwelcome crispy noodle dish with a fried egg on top of it. I won't be having that again. I also had a Kingfisher beer which is a mixed blessing as I never feel like writing afterwards.
So no blog and back to my room to watch the Hobbit part 3 on my television. I also did my chi gung practice which I have been keeping up daily pretty well.
Today I decided to mount the other hill to the southwest of Kalimpong, called Rinkingpong Hill or Durpin Dara. There is quite a famous monastery up there with a roof from which one can survey the surrounding area in 360 degree glory (if it were not so misty). On the roof I had a pleasant chat with three 'young people' from Kolkatta and on the way down, having been unable to see the main shrine room as it was locked, with a charming elderly Tibetan couple who had also been up to the monastery, circumambulating it and chanting mantras as they spun the prayer wheels.
I left them to check on the shared taxi to Gangtok which I will probably take on boxing day and then had another excellent thali at the Kalash restaurant, where I met and shared a table with a very friendly and lovely young Australian couple.
Despite what may sound a whirl of socialising I do now feel a bit lonesome, which may have something to do with it being Christmas eve. Tomorrow I shall do my best to be festive and will be thinking and sending love to my family and friends.
To finish, I forgot to mention in my previous blog that, on my return to Deki Lodge from the market, I had crossed the path of an old, wizened, fairly toothless picture post card Tibetan monk (with hat) who had spoken possibly his only English words to me. These amounted to 'I love you' which was a little disturbing but so heartwarming. I had then been invited to play badmington with the children on the ascent to Deki Lodge. So not all bad!
Happy Christmas
Love
Davidxx
