Dharamshala

Sunday, May 12

A 4am wake alarm ushered us to the airport, eating at Tim Hortons (wtf?), and a landing in Dharamshala where we met with our GF who had already been traveling in Bhutan and India for 4.5 weeks. We were treated to a hail storm and violent rain during lunch but unfortunately I was struck with tummy rumblings for the rest of the day. Thankfully I recovered and could explore Dharamshala the next day.

Monday, May 13

The Dalai Lama temple was overwhelming with the amount of people that were praying and visiting, but I loved seeing where His Holiness lived. The art and imagery captivated my imagination.

Our GF insisted on Baskin-Robbins for lunch (shrug) and afterwards we took a gondola ride to satisfy my need to look at everything from above. I like seeing how the area is laid out and it helps me organize the internal map of where I am in the world.

A friend who used to work for the Dalai Lama recommended that we visit the Norbulingka Institute so as we set off to find transportation, a guy whispered to us as we passed him “Go Norbulingka Institute?” like it was a drug transaction. He successfully upsold us on hiring him for the day (I live this trend) so off we went to see more sights!

The tea garden/ plantation gave me such joy to walk through. I don’t quite know why but the terraced fields and dappled sunlight fed my soul. The sweet peach tea at the end didn’t hurt either. We drove by the cricket stadium and war memorial but declined stopping at either place.

Our driver looked like Peter Dinkladge and had been driving a taxi since 1985 when there were only 13 taxis in Dharamshala. He was a master of navigating the streets. In the US, the roads we were on would be considered “one lane” but here, they accommodate both directions of traffic, pedestrians, plus random cows and dogs. The relentless blind corners added to the experience. I closed my eyes dozens of times to reduce anxiety.

The Norbulingka Institute, dedicated to the preservation of Tibetan cultural arts, was beautiful and educational. The temple had a life-size cutout of the Dalai Lama so I was startled when entering the gorgeous temple. The Gyuto Tantric Monastery was perfectly framed by the Himalayas but we were unable to find the local nunnery. We capped the trip with a visit to the Museum of Tibet, opened in 2022, showing the tragic living history of this country.

Tuesday, May 14

Starting a late-morning hike in full sun up to Bhagsunag Falls proved to be too hot. I was happy to descend into town for a sweet lassi. We hired a driver to take us to Kangra Fort, built before the 11th century. I read “The Far Pavilions” this year in preparation for this trip and had learned that forts played a large part in the story. I overlaid the imagery I’d created from the story onto the fort we visited which brought the Kangra fort to life. The relentless sun and heat cut our time short but it was worth the time and energy.

Wednesday, May 15

Jack, our amazing driver, arrived at 7am to take us to the airport. We were told we were late and were admonished for our security behaviors. We didn’t do anything wrong, but whatever. On the airplane, DH2 and I had row 1 & 2, but the seats were facing each other so not only were we eye to eye, we had great leg room. The flight attendant was so nice and wrote us a thank you note. At the Delhi Airport, we had to take a shuttle to a different terminal but it was a very confusing experience. Everyone else boarded a transfer bus so we just followed and then we were told we were supposed to have a ticket. Umm, ok, now what? A woman on the bus then said we could buy a ticket from her. Suspicious, ok. Everyone else got off at terminal 3 and when we said we had to go to terminal 2, the driver and the woman who sold the tickets were very perplexed. After we rode an elevator reminiscent of “Severance”, the real security fun and games began. My ticket flashed “invalid”, waved down to the next security line, repeat, repeat to the last kiosk. The irritated guard told me I couldn’t be there but I told her I had been sent there. She confirmed the invalid status of the ticket but asked my last name and angrily let me through. In the female screening room, the guard asked where I was going but because I couldn’t pronounce the city correctly she wouldn’t let me through. She finally figured out what city I was trying to say but then spent 5 minutes coaching me how to pronounce it properly. I failed her tutorial but she let me pass, bathed in her disdain.

A KFC and beer break were necessary at that point. The flight to Derodan was short, but the Mr. Toad’s wild taxi ride to Misoura was long and terrifying. This young driver was as bad as Jack had been good. I’m surprised we survived when it started raining as he screeched around the blind corners. On this leg of the trip, I developed heartburn, didn’t want to eat upon arrival at our hotel, and had an early night.