Into the Mountains

A long, hungover bus journey took me from the dusty, busy city of Amritsar up to the peaceful hills of Dharamsala. The roads got steadily worse as we wound our way uphill, but the air got cleaner and fresher, and the scenery became more and more majestic until night closed in.

After the short connecting hop up to McLeod Ganj, I'm tired and hungry enough to just bag the cheapest room I can find, then to head out for a beer and a curry on a rooftop. The night sky has a few clouds, but the nearly-full moon still shines through with enough strength to cast impressive shadows. On the northern horizon we can see snow-capped peaks looming large over the wooded ridges below, and a scattering of individual lights illuminating the isolated farmers' and shepherds' huts cut into the sheer slopes. The twinkling of the lights in the village itself reminds me of a nocturnal Alpine scene, where chalets and villas almost seem ready to topple down on top of one another.

As I'm staring out at this and waiting for food, there is a sudden power cut. I'm sure it's playing havoc in the busy kitchen below, but right now I have the best view in town as I look out over the moonlit valley below. It's such a change from the busy cities I have been in up till now, and a very welcome one. The air is chilly, not humid, and I can see the stars for the first time. The silence is perfect. The moment lingers, thankfully, until an understandably harried waiter brings up our food by candlelight a few minutes later. The power kicks back in soon after that, and we're left to enjoy our meal.

A few days later and I move further up the hillside to the nearby settlement of Bhagsu, an old hippie hangout which is being slowly redeveloped. It's even quieter up here, and the two- or three-kilometer walk each way is a good way to wake up in the morning, or to clear the head when returning at night. My days are lazy and slow, and often I only set myself one small task to accomplish, so I can feel like I've been productive by lunch, then just see what the rest of the day brings. There are some amazing characters here, both resident and transient, including a large number of Tibetan refugees, many of whom have made an epic trans-Himalayan journey to get here.

It is also the home of the Dalai Lama, and there is a beautiful kora trail around his complex and the main Buddhist temple that I have taken to walking on most days. The sight of thousands of colourful prayer-flags flapping in the breeze is at once both peacefully reassuring and a symbol of defiant hope, one which the Tibetan people carry within them in their struggle for a free homeland. It's still amazing how little coverage this issue gets in the West.