McLeod, Manali and something else beginning with 'M'

And so I feel I should continue with the account of my holiday, starting off in McLeod Ganj. If you remember, I'd just been a metre away from the Dalai Lama in our last chapter, before hearing him teach and then typing all that up. I followed that up with lunch at this fairly terrible French place, where I had an overly cheesy pasta thing which would suit a child of about three. Possibly.

I then went back to the Dalai Lama's temple, thinking (correctly) that the crowds would have dissipated by then and that I would be able to have a little look around. It was fairly nice, with some decent sculptures and art work. I then went to the fantastic Tibet Museum, which was small, but full of interesting information and bits and bobs. For the Rs5 entry fee, it was great value for money, though I was disappointed that there was nothing on pre-1949 (pre-Chinese invasion) Tibet, about which I know nothing at all.

We met up with Patrick again and went for coffee that evening at a place called Ogo's. We were met there by Hugh and then went down to meet up with Jeremy and the GAP reps for a GAP dinner. There was the four of us, plus Jeremy, the two GAP reps in Dharamsala (Nyima and Migmar) and the fairly high-ranking official from the Tibetan government in Exile who met us in Delhi over a month ago. He is, basically, a legend. He kept us all entertained and in fits of laughter for the entire evening. He was only partially aided by the vodka. He invented the word yakshit (Tibetan version of bullshit) which we decided to adopt and use from now on. We were on the point of leaving, standing by the door, listening to him yakshitting (as he put it) when the party sort of kicked off again as we took coffee. In the end we returned to our hotel at around 1am to find it shut and locked with the grill pulled down. After ten minutes or so of waiting in the deserted dark streets of McLeod Ganj, ringing the bell to the hotel, we got let in by a member of staff who was too tired to be angry. We were lucky though. Nyima had to stay with Migmar and Patrick on Jeremy's hotel room floor as they couldn't get taxis back home (Nyima) or to his monastery (Patrick). Jeremy told us the next day that Patrick also got stuck in his toilet at 5 or 6 in the morning (broken door). So a fun night all round.

On the next day I got up and had breakfast at Ogo's, where I had (finally!) bacon! It was slightly smoked, but still pretty good. My eggs and tomatoes were also pretty good. I then packed up and left the hotel to meet Jeremy and Migmar to go and see Hugh's monastery (Kirti monastery). We met the monk who acts as secretary at the monastery, and were given khatas. Jeremy asked a bunch of questions about Hugh and was told he was the bewst gapper they'd ever had at Kirti. This was followed by a tour of the monastery, which is very different to Tashi Jong. Whilst TJ is quite open and spread out, Kirti is enclosed and slightly labyrinthine, with passageways and stairways leading off to various bits. We watched the monks doing some pujaing for a little bit (or not as was the case with some of them). Jeremy and Migmar then took me to a Tibetan children's school where GAP are trying to work out a new placement. It was shut. I had lunch at Jimmey's, which was a bit uninspiring.

I then went for a pleases ant 20 minute or so walk up to the village of Baghsu, where I went to the Baghsu waterfall. I walked there with a Brit who wasn't a hippy (a rare find). It was a nice place and there were quite a few tourists (both Indian and Western), whilst further down the river there were loads of people washing clothes and so on (including lots of monks). After chilling there for a bit, I walked back to McLeod bus station. Our bus left at 5pm, so we had to be there by 4.30pm. While waiting for Nadine, I saw Hugh and Patrick texted me. The end result was that we all met up at Nick's for a coffee (Jeremy was there too, we saw Nyima on her way out, and I saw Migmar just after Hugh), so I got to see everyone again before we left for Manali. I also saw some real barefooted hippies. Cool.

The bus left at 4.45pm, so it was a good thing we turned up at 4.30 (as we were told).

The dull bus journey deposited us, unfortunately, on time in Manali at 4am. I was hoping it would be a little late and so we would get in at a half-decent time. But no. A Korean lady who was a totally incompetent traveller, and quite frankly extremely vulnerable too, attached herself to us, so we took her to her hotel, negotiating with the autorickshaw-wallah and the hotelier, and then stayed in her room for a couple of hours before finding somewhere open for breakfast. We went to Johnson's Café which opens at 7am (compared to the rest of Manali: 10am or so) and I had porridge (very nice it was too) and hot chocolate. Johnson's is a rather nice hotel with a very nice restaurant, bar and café as well, so it cost a little bit, but it was worth it.

I then found a hotel in Old Manali which Patrick and Loz had recommended (Rs150 a night for a room that's really a double, including hot water!). The owner, or at least the most prominent member of staff, asked me knowingly if I like “smokes”. I said no. Manali, on a totally unrelated note, as I'm sure he was talking about cigarettes, is infamous for its cannabis culture (the LP even has a special bit warning you about it).

The only drug for me that morning, however, was God. I went to a bit of the mass that Nadine's kids (she is at an orphanage near Manali) go to. It was disappointing, to be honest, as there were very few tears and shouts of joy for an evangelical church. I was expecting miracle conversions, the curing of the disabled and the harrowing of Hell, at the very least, so needless to say, I felt a little let down. An American woman talked to the masses too; it was mostly yakshit that didn't make much sense at all and didn't hold up to any logical thought. But who am I to doubt what she was saying? Praise the Lord and all that. Lunch was chowmein. The folk from Dehra Dun were delayed a bit longer as one of them got ill and couldn't travel straight away.

After a lazy Sunday afternoon, I went for dinner at a place called Mom's Kitchen. If the LP hadn't recommended it, I would have stayed away, and I wish I had. It was overpriced and disappointing. In defence of the LP, the restaurant has moved to new, bigger premises since the review in there; it used to be in a small shop that looks a far more promising place for somewhere with that name. I went pack to the hotel again, stopping only to amuse myself by pretending to be interested at a jeweller's. He was trying to convince me that this ring he had was solid gold, set with real diamonds and sapphire. He started at a price tag of about Rs7000-8000 (less than £100), which doesn't seem that realistic to me, though I know nothing about jewels. Remember, however, that he would probably slash that price by up to half for me and still be making a tidy profit on it. He assured me that when I came back (he obviously took me for more of a sucker than I'd like to think I am) we could talk and have some “smokes”. I haven't gone back.

On Monday morning, I went up to a restaurant called Pizza Olive and had a chai & omlette. It was, admittedly, better than what I have in Tashi Jong, but I paid more than double (Rs 35 = less than 50p). I was a little let down as they didn't have any pancakes or hot chocolate left, but aside from that it was a very nice place to eat. I went for a walk and soon found myself, almost by accident, at the Manu temple. I went in and looked around. It was alright, though nothing special. It had some scary looking statues of various Hindu gods and goddesses inside. I did get a few good views of the hills and mountains (and passes) that form the backdrop to Manali. The mountains are pretty cool, topped with snow and in the clouds in some places.

I ate lunch at Chopsticks in Manali, which was good, before heading up to the Hadimba temple (a.k.a. Dhungri temple, though I may have misspelled that). It was a nice walk up, so I refused a “free” taxi lift. The driver pulled over in front of me after I refused the lift, and pulled out a fairly large bag of some green herb (I can't begin to imagine what herb...) and offered me some. You can guess what I said.

The temple itself is a four-story building made with wood and stone. It has three pagoda like rooves, with the top one being a metal cone on top. It is smallish and square and is covered with intricate carvings of various Hindu myths as well as having loads of animal trophies fixed to the outside walls. Inside was small and pretty dark (you can't go upstairs). There was a small overhang under which the devotees could crouch and make offerings and prayers. Close to the temple is a “fun park” which I ignored (just like I ignored the saffron sellers, despite their insisting they were selling for “good price, sir, very cheap”) and a tree which is a temple. Yeah, that's right. It was festooned with more animal skulls and horns and other offerings. Incidentally, it has been interesting to see what people offer in temples. In my experience, whilst the Hindu deities go in for all sorts, the Buddha appears to have a liking for big packets of biscuits, including my personal favourite: Hide and Seek cookies (the World's Best Moulded Chocolate Chip Cookies).

I went into the Himachal Culture Museum (or something like that) next to this holy tree (Rs10) which was alright. It was empty of people, but full of what you would expect in a place like that (traditional clothing, pots, various things from traditional homes and jewellery – including a couple of necklaces made with Victorian British coins). There were also some scary-looking masks that are worn for a mask dance celebration, photos of HP (especially the Kullu Valley) and some models of various temples (including the Hadimba temple), forts and traditional homes.

I walked down through the woods and back to my hotel before going back to Manali proper. I went to a bookshop down a side-street and broke my rule about not buying any new books, before going for dinner at the Original Sher-e-Punjab. It was a diner-like joint where the owner was watching a service from Amritsar's Golden Temple (Sikh, if you didn't know) on the TV. My food (spaghetti something or other) was a little burnt on the top, as if it had been microwaved a little too long, had indistinguishable veg in it, and the spaghetti looked like it had come from a tin. Despite that, it was still edible.

On the way back to Old Manali, I stopped at another shop where Mustapha offered me a pendant and chain (made with REAL silver and REAL black onyx) for a bargin price of Rs450 (=£5.60 or so). He told me that he wasn't going to go below Rs600 until he found out that I was helping the children. After a discourse on the importance of education in modern Indian society, he told me to name my own price and that he didn't care if he only made Rs40 or 50 profit on it. He revealed (and this I believe) that he was packing up for Goa in the next few days, which is what many people do around here as Old Manali and Vashisht (a village close by) shut down in Winter. I am still “thinking” about it.

I went for breakfast the next morning at Café Amigo's in Manali, where I had an overly milky banana porridge and a very good chai. I then went down to Manali's two Buddhist gompas, followed by a shoe cleaner who just wanted to be friendly (I'm sure). The first gompa was a Nyingma sect one which had no monks and was really a collection of buildings in one complex, surrounded by a load of rubble. There was one hall with a large prayer wheel and nicely decorated walls, and a main prayer hall with prayer wheels around the outside. Inside was a very large Buddha and some pretty scary statues of a couple of Buddhist deities. I paid my Rs5 and got some photos, which will appear in the next two weeks or so.

The second was the Gelukpa Cultural Centre. It was slightly smaller, not a building site and had monks, so all-in-all it was much nicer. They had a little bit of information regarding the Chinese invasion, Tibetan oppression and the fate of the 11^th Panchen Lama (read up on that if you don't know about it). Inside the prayer hall were some nice decorations and statues, as well as a lot of pictures of the Dalai Lama and the 10^th and 11^th Panchen Lamas (there is only one photo of the 11^th in existence, as far as I know), which is true of many Tibetan gompas, especially Gelukpa ones as the DL and PL are of that sect (TJ is Kargyu).

I then went to a wooded natural park called Van Vihar, which had children's playparks, toilets and paddle boats. I missed out on one of those opportunities as the lake was small and stagnant (I have a nice photo of a dead rat/mouse in it). I saw some gentlemen in one of the paddle boats rolling and passing something between them to smoke. Grown men don't usually pass cigarettes between them, do they? (I know 12 year old chavs outside Oddbin's do, but that's different).

I headed back to my hotel after that, but was stopped by an Indian guy I'd met before a few times. He works at a place called Pizza Hut (a rip-off of the fine institution we all know and love) and has an American boss. He invited me to dinner with him (we were to have some vegetables, he said) and that Mike and Bo, who were now in Manali but were catching up on some sleep after the 15hr or so bus ride from Dehra Dun, should come too. I said I'd get back to him. In the end I refused, but at least I did get back to him. I also stopped at Dylan's, a café in Old Manali that is famous for its cookies. I had a marvellous chocolate chai and a sumptuous chocolate chip cookie (freshly baked). I chatted with a Canadian couple before finally getting back to the hotel. That evening, after making my excuses to my friend, I met Mike and Bo and we had dinner at Chopsticks. After a good meal, we wandered around and Bo bought a ridiculous rainbow hat and scarf set (with tassels).

I checked out of my hotel today (Wednesday) and decamped to Vashisht, a small village about 3km up the road from Manali (and so a nice 5km or so walk from Old Manali), a walk that offers great views of the hills, snow-topped mountains and the Rhotangla (Rhotang Pass). It is a bit of a travellers' haunt, though many places are now closed for the Winter, despite the continuing good weather and the handful of tourists still kicking about. I got a room for Rs100 a night and found an open café for lunch (a decent chicken burger and chips – hey I can't eat Indian every day, can I?). The owner and a member of staff (or at least that's what I took them for) offered me a drag on a lit joint they were passing between them and had rolled quite happily in front of me. I was once again forced to politely decline the offer. I went to an internet café in Vashisht, but the connection was down. The internet-wallah tried to charge me the minimum fee for this, but I explained that he could take his minimum fee and insert it in his Rohtangla (though I didn't put it as strongly as that). I wasn't prepared to pay for the 30 seconds it took to discover the internet wasn't working. He relented and I walked down to Manali to the Café Digital (very good and very reliable) to write all this for your viewing consumption.

And with that, I must sign off, but look after yourselves (and each other, as Jerry would say), keep reading the blog and passing on the word to those who aren't, and keep in touch via email too!