Leaving Manali behind we headed for Naggar. We braved the local buses and travelled a short distance down the valley on a rickety old metal wreck with people staring at us. It got us there in one piece and we checked in for the night at the 15th century castle emerging from the hillside. The castle is a stunning stone and timber piece of architecture, built around a sequence of courtyards perched on a stone plinth with incredible views out from Her Highness Suite (our dusty room) and with beautiful wood detailing.
Nikolai Roerich, a Russian painter, whom neither of us had heard of, settled in Naggar in the 30s and left behind a lovely house and lush garden, now converted into a museum displaying his Himalayan landscape paintings. He also set up the Roerich Pact for the preservation of cultural monuments around the world. His Banner of Peace is a lovely message to the world - three red spheres surrounded by a larger circle on a white background representing religion, art and science encompassed by the circle of culture, or as the past, present and future achievements of humanity guarded by the circle of eternity.
Back on the local bus, this time jam-packed, meaning I had to strap our bags to the roof whilst the impatient bus driver was rolling down the hill, we headed into Parvati Valley. 5 minutes into the drive we both agreed it was the best one so far, incredibly steep forested hill sides with the Parvati river gushing below. We were excited about arriving in Kasol, a recommended traveller hang-out. Five minutes after arriving we were keen to leave again! Kasol is set in a stunning pine tree forest next to the river, but has been taken hostage by Israeli travellers puffing the magic dragon a little too hard. The whole place was a filthy, stinking drainpipe of humanity and had it not been for the late in the day arrival we wouldn't have spent 14 hours here. The beautiful Parvati Valley felt more like the Perverty Valley.
Back on the bus we went to Manikaran instead, still filthy, but brilliantly spiritual with friendly Sikhs and Hindus coming to pay tribute to the Parvati legend, now a temple set around hot springs enveloping the river and village in mist. Bizzarly, the temple looks a lot like a multi storey car park with the magic happening in the dungeons with natural caves filled with hot water (and devout bearded men). We looked on in amazement whilst the pilgrims dipped in before happily leaving the valley behind on the first morning bus. Slowly the sceney changed from lush to lusher, monkeys appeared left, right and centre as Ruth got more and more excited. This country is a land of contrasts.....
