Thursday, 1 July 2010
From Nepal to Wales, via Scotland of the East.
After leaving Itahari I had planned to visit Ilam, a small tea growing town very close to the Indian border. However as I approached the turn where I needed to get off the bus I found myself making no attempt to move. I had just two days left on my Nepali visa, and didn't fancy the detour up the hills. The bus I was on carried on to the check point and I figured perhaps it was time for a change.
I felt a definite sadness when leaving Nepal. It is a glorious country. I will never forget those mountains, the weeks of trekking and watching 4 ton beasts perform rolypolys. However when entering India I had that buzz of excitement I get every time when entering a new country. I had made the correct decision. So after dealing with the world's most rude border guard I headed for Siliguri, the first city of note.
Siliguri is not pretty. Its a place one needs to visit only to make a connection elsewhere. A bustling town centre, rather smelly river and chaotic bus station are there to greet travelers. My onward destination was Darjeeling.
I have visited Darjeeling before, about 7 years ago, so I knew what to expect. They city has not changed much, still cool and cloudy this time of year with a nice pedestrianised area with cafes and restaurants aplenty. Unfortunately the north of West Bengal is experiencing ongoing political problems. The minority Gorkha speaking population of West Bengal, but majority in the north, want a separate state (Gorkhaland) to encompass the area surrounding Darjeeling. Their protest and claims are evident everywhere with numerous posters and graffiti calling for independence. As a consequence there is a de facto curfew at around 8 to 9pm. Bars, restaurants and shops shut. So as there is nothing to do people return home. Military presence is strong. Darjeeling is a military city anyway with large army base, but at the moment one will notice numerous armed guards nonchalantly patrolling the town, especially after dark.
From Darjeeling I headed to Gangtok, the capital of Sikkim. Sikkim, the second smallest state (after Goa) and only fully absorbed into India as a state in 1975, still requires a further permit to enter. The permit is easy to obtain, one hands over a passport photograph and fills in a form, but the border requires formalities similar to that of an international border. So with extra stamp in my passport I arrived in Gangtok.
Gangtok surprised me. I was expecting something small and traditional in appearance - less modern anyway. But Gangtok, perched upon the mountains at 1500m, is modern, clean and functional. There is a large European style pedestrianised shopping area called Mahatma Gandhi Marg with banners proudly boasting a litter and spit free area. The lack of cows and dung gave me a feeling that I was no longer in India!
After Gangtok I headed back through Siliguri via a hopelessly long bus ride to Shillong. Shillong is another hill station built by the British as an escape from the heat of the plains. Known as Scotland of the East I have family connections in Shillong. My Grandmother (Dad's side of the family) was born there, and on my first visit seven years ago I discovered that I still have family there. Although finding them proved to be difficult.
I arrived without an address, and to find that large parts of the city had changed. I recognised very little. After spending a day trying to get through to Dad for an address and phone number, then finding that the phone number was no longer in use and the address only stating the neighbourhood in Shillong that my relies lived, I then spent another day searching around the city with my incomplete address and asking at the post office for the missing section before I could find my relies.
When I finally manged to find them we were all pleased to meet. They were very surprised as they did not know I was in the country. The visit was tinged with sadness however as Esther (the eldest of my Indian family) has developed cancer and is now very sick. Never the less I had a most enjoyable day being driven around seeing various sites (or what sites I could see through the cloud and monsoon!) and catching up on various bits of news over meals.
As I have previously mentioned, they are related through my Grandmother, being her brothers children. Ethnically they are Khasi, a hill tribe belonging to the north east Indian state of Meghalaya (literally "The abode of clouds"). Linguistically Khasi is an Austro-Asiatic language, more in common to other south east Asian languages such as Vietnamese and Khmer than Hindi. Khasi society is structured along matrilineal and matrilocal lines with Christianity being the dominant religion. And I really do mean dominant - I have never seen so many churches! However Christianity and not Hinduism is the dominant religion of all the north east states, not just Meghalaya. And talking with my family India west of Bangladesh is almost seen as a different country, with just the narrow "chicken neck" of India between Bhutan and Bangladesh linking the north east states with the west of the country. It seems that they as well as I find India baffling, confusing and one has to stay alert for people who will rip you off!
It was while I was at Shillong I decided to fly home. With an airport near by at Guwahti (state capital), Assam I felt it was time to go. So I just had one more night in Guwahti (not much to say about this place, very muddy and run down, however the lake is pretty), one night in Delhi waiting for my London connection (I stayed near the airport so I would not have any dramas catching my flight, thought I'd get some food at a local street vendor only to find he wanted to charge me 500 Rupees for chapati and channa masala, a meal that should cost 50 Rupees at absolute maximum - I ate in the airport) a day time flight with spectacular views, utterly dry and barren from Delhi, over Pakistan, through Afghanistan and Turkmenistan - and boy, Turkmenistan looks amazing! Full of mountains, desert, canyons - huge and remote. Over the Caspian Sea and then into southern Russia and BANG!, from then on green, organised, large farms and the familiar sites of Europe. Warsaw looked much smaller than I imagined. Berlin looked huge. And crystal clear sites over London. Taxiing to the terminal took an age, compounded with a muzak version of Eternal Flame by The Bangles being played on repeat I was happy to get off, get through passport control and into London for a quick pint before catching my train to Cardiff where I am now!
Few - an amazing trip has ended...
Now, where next?
I felt a definite sadness when leaving Nepal. It is a glorious country. I will never forget those mountains, the weeks of trekking and watching 4 ton beasts perform rolypolys. However when entering India I had that buzz of excitement I get every time when entering a new country. I had made the correct decision. So after dealing with the world's most rude border guard I headed for Siliguri, the first city of note.
Siliguri is not pretty. Its a place one needs to visit only to make a connection elsewhere. A bustling town centre, rather smelly river and chaotic bus station are there to greet travelers. My onward destination was Darjeeling.
I have visited Darjeeling before, about 7 years ago, so I knew what to expect. They city has not changed much, still cool and cloudy this time of year with a nice pedestrianised area with cafes and restaurants aplenty. Unfortunately the north of West Bengal is experiencing ongoing political problems. The minority Gorkha speaking population of West Bengal, but majority in the north, want a separate state (Gorkhaland) to encompass the area surrounding Darjeeling. Their protest and claims are evident everywhere with numerous posters and graffiti calling for independence. As a consequence there is a de facto curfew at around 8 to 9pm. Bars, restaurants and shops shut. So as there is nothing to do people return home. Military presence is strong. Darjeeling is a military city anyway with large army base, but at the moment one will notice numerous armed guards nonchalantly patrolling the town, especially after dark.
From Darjeeling I headed to Gangtok, the capital of Sikkim. Sikkim, the second smallest state (after Goa) and only fully absorbed into India as a state in 1975, still requires a further permit to enter. The permit is easy to obtain, one hands over a passport photograph and fills in a form, but the border requires formalities similar to that of an international border. So with extra stamp in my passport I arrived in Gangtok.
Gangtok surprised me. I was expecting something small and traditional in appearance - less modern anyway. But Gangtok, perched upon the mountains at 1500m, is modern, clean and functional. There is a large European style pedestrianised shopping area called Mahatma Gandhi Marg with banners proudly boasting a litter and spit free area. The lack of cows and dung gave me a feeling that I was no longer in India!
After Gangtok I headed back through Siliguri via a hopelessly long bus ride to Shillong. Shillong is another hill station built by the British as an escape from the heat of the plains. Known as Scotland of the East I have family connections in Shillong. My Grandmother (Dad's side of the family) was born there, and on my first visit seven years ago I discovered that I still have family there. Although finding them proved to be difficult.
I arrived without an address, and to find that large parts of the city had changed. I recognised very little. After spending a day trying to get through to Dad for an address and phone number, then finding that the phone number was no longer in use and the address only stating the neighbourhood in Shillong that my relies lived, I then spent another day searching around the city with my incomplete address and asking at the post office for the missing section before I could find my relies.
When I finally manged to find them we were all pleased to meet. They were very surprised as they did not know I was in the country. The visit was tinged with sadness however as Esther (the eldest of my Indian family) has developed cancer and is now very sick. Never the less I had a most enjoyable day being driven around seeing various sites (or what sites I could see through the cloud and monsoon!) and catching up on various bits of news over meals.
As I have previously mentioned, they are related through my Grandmother, being her brothers children. Ethnically they are Khasi, a hill tribe belonging to the north east Indian state of Meghalaya (literally "The abode of clouds"). Linguistically Khasi is an Austro-Asiatic language, more in common to other south east Asian languages such as Vietnamese and Khmer than Hindi. Khasi society is structured along matrilineal and matrilocal lines with Christianity being the dominant religion. And I really do mean dominant - I have never seen so many churches! However Christianity and not Hinduism is the dominant religion of all the north east states, not just Meghalaya. And talking with my family India west of Bangladesh is almost seen as a different country, with just the narrow "chicken neck" of India between Bhutan and Bangladesh linking the north east states with the west of the country. It seems that they as well as I find India baffling, confusing and one has to stay alert for people who will rip you off!
It was while I was at Shillong I decided to fly home. With an airport near by at Guwahti (state capital), Assam I felt it was time to go. So I just had one more night in Guwahti (not much to say about this place, very muddy and run down, however the lake is pretty), one night in Delhi waiting for my London connection (I stayed near the airport so I would not have any dramas catching my flight, thought I'd get some food at a local street vendor only to find he wanted to charge me 500 Rupees for chapati and channa masala, a meal that should cost 50 Rupees at absolute maximum - I ate in the airport) a day time flight with spectacular views, utterly dry and barren from Delhi, over Pakistan, through Afghanistan and Turkmenistan - and boy, Turkmenistan looks amazing! Full of mountains, desert, canyons - huge and remote. Over the Caspian Sea and then into southern Russia and BANG!, from then on green, organised, large farms and the familiar sites of Europe. Warsaw looked much smaller than I imagined. Berlin looked huge. And crystal clear sites over London. Taxiing to the terminal took an age, compounded with a muzak version of Eternal Flame by The Bangles being played on repeat I was happy to get off, get through passport control and into London for a quick pint before catching my train to Cardiff where I am now!
Few - an amazing trip has ended...
Now, where next?
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