QUEEN of the Hills. Land of the Thunderbolt. These are some of the epithets by which Darjeeling, straddling a ridge 2,200 metres up in the eastern Himalayas, is commonly known.
I reckoned that this was the ideal place for a honeymoon, not least because my wife, Bindu, and I were strapped for time and had to rush back to Cyprus the soonest.
A 30-minute flight from my hometown of Calcutta brought us to Bagdogra. And from here began one of the most exhilarating drives we had ever experienced. The road uphill twists and winds for most of the three-hour drive and is narrower and far steeper than any road encountered in the Troodos region.
Many oohs and aahs later we trundled into Darjeeling, a sleepy and scenic town that seems a world apart from the hustle and bustle of most Indian cities.
Kanchenjunga, the third highest mountain in the world, dominates the northern horizon of the town and it is little surprise that Darjeeling offers some breathtaking mountain vistas. Darjeeing is ideal for long walks – indeed, with vehicles banned along certain stretches, there is little option besides. Bindu and I had checked into a hotel close to the town centre from where there were excellent walks to be had either side of town. The road running by the town centre – the Chowrasta – is always chock-a-block with people – some soaking in the sun, others taking a break on their way to work or school, and yet others like us, visiting the town as tourists.
The curio shops on the Chowrasta attract the interest of most tourists and a minute’s walk from there brings you to Nehru road, which is full of stalls set up by Tibetan refugees. These shops sell a range of items from artefacts and bead jewellery to hand-woven shawls and leather jackets. Be prepared to exercise your vocal chords here for the shopkeepers themselves expect customers to bargain down the prices a few percentage points!
After spending some time studying the wares on offer we ambled down the road towards the outer reaches of Darjeeling, through serpentine lanes full of locals and tourists in search of a bargain, soaking in the sights and smells of the town. We arrived in due course at the Lloyds Botanical Gardens which has on display the flora of the eastern Himalayas and some marvelous orchids. It makes for very colourful viewing and even for those with only a passing interest in matters botanical the walk around this giant park is very rewarding.
The next morning we headed west of the Chowrasta towards the zoo and the Himalayan Mountaineering Institute. It was set up a year after Everest was conquered by Sir Edmund Hillary with the help of Sherpa Tenzing Norgay, a resident of Darjeeling. The institute houses a very interesting museum and of particular interest is the display of gear used by mountaineers on expeditions.
The mountainous terrain and cascading river close to the institute offer ample opportunities for trekking, whitewater rafting and mountaineering. But since neither Bindu nor I were quite in the mood for it, we gave it the miss.
A short walk from the institute brought us to the zoo. It is somewhat small but houses the rare snow leopard, the red panda, Ussurian tigers and the Himalayan black bear and is well worth a visit.
After finishing with the zoo, we walked onto North Point which boasts of eastern India’s best residential schools. Our destination however was the Darjeeling-Rangit Valley ropeway, a kilometre away. It is the longest ropeway in Asia and is a thrilling ride with splendid views, even if the chair-cars are a little rickety.
Our aerial adventure over, we then headed to the town of Ghoom, eight km south of Darjeeling. This town is famous for the Yiga Choeling monastery, one of the oldest in south Asia. The monastery boasts about 15 images of the Maitreya (Coming) Buddha and has many ancient palm leaf and paper manuscripts in Tibetan script.
The next day we made a 3am start to Tiger Hill, the highest spot in the region, at an altitude of 2,600 metres. The hill is famed for its magnificent dawn view over the Kanchenjunga peak. Believed to be the high point of any tourists’ visit to Darjeeling, there were a number of people already at the peak at that unearthly hour. Amid the jockeying for position and constant chattering of teeth, a dull orange sun gradually emerged to the east, painting the sky with brilliant strokes of magenta, gold and orange. The snow-capped mountains slowly emerged into view and the sight was magnificent enough to distract us from the obvious chill.
After a short rest at the hotel, we were ready to head down to the plains again en route to Calcutta. But there was time enough to head to the Chowrasta once more and take a long, lingering look at the town. We then began our descent, marvelling at the sight of the tall pines wrapped in mist, and resolved that our next visit to the Queen of the Hills would be sometime soon.
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