Rita Sawhney
Bride & Home; November/December 1998

We began our honeymoon in the hills with a great deal of trepidation, as I am passionate about the sea, and he, about the mountains. But the breathtaking views and splendor of the surroundings slowly pervaded my senses.

We knew from the beginning that we were polar opposites. Our first clash of contrasts happened over the choice of honeymoon destination. I am a sea freak; he is a man of the mountains. I am petrified of the hills; he is passionate about them. So it was with great trepidation that I conceded to his "dream honeymoon", and braced myself mentally for the long drive from Shimla to Tabo that would take us into the forbidden and mystical land of Kinnaur and Spiti.

Half an hour into the majestic deodar forests, and I was doing a quick rethink. The drive was not too strenuous and the view was breathtaking. Past the famous apple and cherry orchards of Narkanda en route to Rampur, and fortified with an aaloo parantha breakfast at the Sutlej Café, and I was ready to eat my words.

Rampur is built on the banks of the churning waters of the river Sutlej, capital of the erstwhile Bushahr State. Our first stop was Sarahan, steeped in legend and famous for the Bhim Kali temple complex, regarded as one of the 51 sacred Shakti Peeths of India. We drove past flowering Jacaranda trees, apricot orchards and dozens of small sparkling streams and waterfalls. Small villages with slate-roofed houses dotted the hillside.

Dominating the village hutments is the famous Bhim Kali temple, surrounded by Snowclad Mountains and the high Shrikhand peak (18,570 ft.). The temple is a combination of Buddhist and Hindu architecture and is sacred to both communities. In earlier days, human sacrifice was prevalent here but now only goats are sacrificed. The towing structure of the two Bhim Kali temples, dedicated to the goddess Bhim Kali, take on an eerie magnificence at night under the fluorescent lighting. We stayed at hotel Shrikhand Mahadev, from which the sound ohymns and Sanskrit shokas from a nearby temple, can be heard well into the night.

Sarahan is also the perfect place for birdwatching. A bird sanctuary on the hill houses several endangered species, including the fascinating Monal and Khaleej pheasants. The most exotic of them all is the Tragopan, an incredibly colourful bird.

Our next stop was Sangla valley. Following the river Sangla (also known as Baspa) upstream from Karcham we arrived at a virtual Shangri-La a bewitching valley of rugged beauty. Though this is snow bound for most of the year, young entrepreneurs have set up tented camps, where we stayed the night. At Banjara Camp, we enjoyed bonfires and an appetizing barbeque under starry skies. A few kilometers up the road from Sangla is Chitkul (11,000ft.), the last Indian village on the Indian-Tibetan trade route. The super deluxe tent we stayed in at the Timberline trekking camp makes luxurious honeymoon suite, equipped with solar lamps from California and biodegradable toilets from Italy! In the morning, we took along a packed lunch for the trek to the other side of the mountain. Here, a boulder-strewn river tumbles down the mountainside. On the higher reaches grow Bhojpatra trees, found only at high altitudes. The extraordinarily fine layers of the bark renowned for its suppleness and strength were used for some of India's most ancient writings, including the Vedas and the Ramayan.

September is perhaps the best season in Kinnaur. As the rains end, autumn sends fiery colours racing through the trees. In Kinnaur, the festival of flowers, "Phulech" opens a window to its remarkable people and their beautiful land. Villagers scout the hillside for flowers to offer to the local deity. Then comes a spate of revelry singing, dancing and feasting.

We left Chitkul with a heavy heart. Driving through the breathtaking gorges of the Greater Himalayas; we reached Kalpa, the last green oasis. Looming in front of Kalpa is the impressive Kinner Kailash, which has great religious significance. The Parikrama around the whole range attracts many pilgrims each year. Timberline has established itself here and offers a variety of activities: nature walks, biking tours, trekking, jeep safaris, mountaineering and rock climbing.

Approaching Powari the next day, we tanked up the Sumo and filled up jerry cans for our venture into the remote land of Spiti. There are no petrol stations till Kaza and it is best to carry essentials, spares and extra fuel with you.

For centuries, a mystic aura has surrounded Spiti and Lahaul. The territories remain locked behind formidable mountain barriers and are only connected by treacherous passes and narrow paths. Only now has this fascinating land been opened to visitors, though foreign tourists need a special permit to enter. This is an ecologically and culturally fragile area. There are 33 Buddhist monasteries and temples in Kinnaur.

We started the climb up an arid area, where just a few willow trees and polars break the monotony of a bleak moonscape. Though we were at a height of 12,540 ft., we felt suffocatingly hot. This is desert territory, where temperatures soar during the day and plummet during the night. Spiti is beyond the reach of the monsoon. The rugged and rocky mountain slopes sweep down to the riverbed, giving the landscape a moon-like appearance.

Here, in the scared Gompa lie some of the greatest art treasures of the world. Wall paintings and stucco images unfold the elaborate iconography of the region. In fact, it is because of its breathtaking murals and stucco images that Tabo is also known as the "Ajanta of the Himalayas".

Tabo is at a height of 10,065 ft. After strolling around the small hamlet that is home to some 350 people, we checked into our friendly Banjara Camp. The young manager, Dhruv Nehru, impressed us immensely by his interest in philosophy, meditation and yoga. As the lengthening shadows of dusk melted into the dark night, myriad stars blazed through the sky. We have never felt so close, and one with nature. Time here seems to stand absolutely still.

At dawn, while touring the vicinity of the Gompa, we noticed little caves perched like eyries is the mountains. The locals informed us that in the medieval ages the monks would use them as a recluse for meditation. We met the head lama of the Tabo Monastery, who welcomed us warmly with a toothy smile and cups of butter tea, which we drank with a straight face. All I can say is, you have to acquire a taste for the stuff.

Tabo was our destination, and it was time to go back. It is possible to carry on to Kaza, and visit the famous Kye monastery and Kibber, the highest village in the world en route. One has to cross the snow-bound Kunzum and Rohtang passes to cross over to Manali. But we saved that for another time. To say it had been a memorable honeymoon would be a cliché. Suffice to say that I came back a convert.