Sikkim, India

I am going to break away from what has become my standard method of posting (town by town) and revert back to something similar to what I was doing when I first started travelling with more over a region-based post. I am going this because I am lazy, very far behind on posting, and because often only a night or two was spent in any given place, not warranting a post unto itself, but is part of a larger experience. That said, here is the post of Sikkim.

Before you (meaning nobody) read this look up a map to see where the state of Sikkim in India is. That alone will give you a better mental image of what I am very poorly going to describe here.

From Darjeeling, Alex, Joyce, and myself took a jeep ride to Gangtok, the capital of Sikkim. I am going to get sick of typing that every jeep ride was bumpy, probably a little painful, and long, so just assume when you read "jeep" that those things hold true. I took multiple videos of these jeep rides because they are so intense. Travelling a short distance takes forever because of the road conditions and topography.

Once in Gangtok we searched for a tour to North Sikkim. Normally I shy away from tours because they are always overpriced, almost always a poor value, and do not allow the kind of flexibility I like when travelling. However, a tour and guide (which essentially means translator) is legally required to visit the north. So, we found a tour but not after some heated and entertaining negotiations over the price.

We had a free day in Gangtok before our tour left and though the town does not have much to offer we managed to make a day out of walking around to various sights. We visited Enchey, with its erotic paintings, and the Ganesh Tok view point, among other random places. We found some excellent momos made prepared by some Malaysian that Joyce talked to. Gangtok was OK but not much. For dinner be indulged a little bit and went to a highly recommended restaurant called Tangerine (my dinner was a whopping 80INR, or US$2.00). The food item wanted, and actually suggested the restaurant because of, was out of season and unavailable. Disappointed, I got something, which was really good.

The next day our North Sikkim journey begin with a jeep ride to Lachen. On the way we saw a jeep that had fallen off the road and was currently being rescued. Thankfully the jeep was empty other than the driver, who realized he had lost control and was able to jump out before the jeep went over the edge. I am pretty sure that at this point Alex, Joyce, the Indian couple that was also on the tour, and myself all hoped that we would not face a similar situation. (We did not.) Also along the way I encountered what I believe to be my favorite flavor of potato chips. There was an Indian couple in addition to the three of us on the tour (more on them later) that had some obsession with potato chips and were constantly getting the driver to pull over at little random shops to buy more. Anyway, whenever they bought some they would buy us a pack or two as well. One time they purchased Lay's Hip Hop Honey and Chili, which was one of the four winning flavors in an India-wide contest Lay's ran. They were great and put us on the look out for the other three winning flavors (these took some time and effort to find and were all disappointing).

In addition to the fallen jeep we saw more traditional (that might not be true) sights such as the Seven Sisters Falls. Which was OK to look at but more interesting to drive beside with the crashing of the water only feet away.

The guy of the Indian couple was one of two things that made the jeep rides tolerable. He was in the front, giving us an excellent position to witness his seated dancing while simultaneously silently cracking up at. He was so into the music for hours on end it was astonishing. The other thing was the betting between Alex, Joyce, and I on how long the ride would actually take. We were always told/asked the expected duration and made our bets based from there. ONe time I was hoping we clipped a cow to hinder our progress because my bet was too high. We did not and I lost.

Each night of this tour was spent in a tiny hotel, which were really just added on rooms to somebody's home that they rent out. It was more interesting than staying in a traditional hotel, though less comfortable, but better still. It was kind of like couch surfing. Dinner and breakfast was provided by the family and for a few hours a day we were privy to see them going about their lives. This means father gambling, the wife cooking and cleaning, and the kids going nothing or performing hard physical labor.

The next day we went to Thangu. By "we" I mean Alex, Joyce, and I because, as foreigners, this is as far north as we can go. The Indian couple was allowed to go north beyond, but because of the nearby boarder with China, the security is heightened (there are military posts all over) and travel is heavily restricted.

This is also one of the reasons a guide is legally required.

The area we visited was a large valley. Exploring the area was cool and watching a group of locals slaughter a yak (from a distance) was a sight alone. I was not close enough to see any detail otherwise I am sure I would not have enjoyed it but from my vantage point it was interesting. We spent another night at a "hotel" in Lachaung.

The last day of the tour we went to the Yumthang river plains. Much like Darjeeling, the weather was not cooperating and the sights were not what they could have been but good regardless. I decided that the small area that we were expected to walk around was not exciting enough so I ventured off next to the river. Here the views improved and the growing chance of falling into the river boosted my adrenaline. I got to a point that my sandals were no longer sufficient to go on and decided to go back. Apparently Joyce was in a similar state of mind because she went off too but got a bit lost and the gudie and myself went looking for her. It all worked out and give me a little more time to explore.

After the tour of the North we returned to Gangtok to get a job to Pelling, which we learned upon our arrival involved a transfew of jeeps at Gazing.

Pelling is known for its mountain views just as Darjeeling, but this time the weather was more cooperative. But before that, we arrived in the early evening and set out to socialize in our new hostel but I had a funny feeling about stuff at home and made the decision to leave and make a call home. Well, turned out I was right, that there was some stuff happening at home that I did not know about but everything was OK, aleviating my uneasiness. I returned to the hostel and the socializing. The hostel itself was pretty cool. The entrance and reception is on the top, were there is a deck area for people to hang out. During the evening flying scquirrals sometimes drop of the hostel and "fly"/sail down the mountain. We were lucky enough to see one on this night. That night a bunch of people agreed to wake up really early the following morning to go see the sun's first morning rays on Kachenjunga. And, despite the ample socializing, everybody showed up and we made our way to the spot that supposedly had the best views at the local helipad, of course. After the beautiful spectacle and some decent photos, I went back to sleep and all around took the rest of the day to relax and amble around the small town. Plus, I was feeling a bit sick and did not want to wander too far from the hostel.

Other than the views there is not much in Pelling so we continued on to our next, much anticipated stop of Khacheopalri Lake.

Before getting to the lake we took a another jeep ride. Before we got to the meat of the journey we stopped to deliver the veggies that were riding on top of the jeep. Of course, the many of the potatoes and onions fell off, on to the far from hygenic "street" and were picked up and returned with the others. I helped pick them up off the ground and was compensated with two pieces of gum. There was something else that made this jeep ride interesting. This time the previously mentioned assumptions of jeep rides do not apply. This one was slow (the rest is still true). I was more than OK with this because I was still sick. Along the way the driver stopped countless times to pick up school children along the way that would pile in, sitting on and touching anything without hesitation. It was funny and made the trip quicker than it was.

The lake of Khacheopalri Lake is not the reason backpackers come here. The lake is nice but the best views of it are pretty far away, about middway up a hill, enroute to the real reason I was here: the famous Palas Homestay (not my grammatical error). Pala charges 250INR (under US$5.75) for a bed and three meals a day. There is almost nothing else to spend your money on so that is your only expense. The meals are repeatative and strict (lunch is served at at noon and dinner at 5:30 no matter what) and you do not necessarily get electricity but you do get a good time. All there is to do is to hang out with Pala and his extensive family with ambiguous relationships (is that his wife, daughter, or granddaughter?).

As mentioned, to get to Palas you must first climb uphill about 30 mintues. It was raining and the path is not exactly paved. I carried my bags and Joyce's because she could not ascend otherwise. Ohhh, and it was raining. Heavily. We arrived, soaked, and excited. There were two Israelis there, one of which we had already met. Avri and David were both cool and easy to talk to and made the days and nights more fun.

Now a word on Pala, the man himself: Pala’s story is, for lack of a better word, awesome. He is 84-years-old and has the energy of a perfectly healthy 65-year-old. In 1969 or 1970 , Pala’s parents died. So Pala decided he would walk to Lhasa. The walk took him 6 months and when he got there, he met the Dalai Lama and Pala became the Dalai Lama’s cook for 3 years, after learning how to cook from the queen of England. Pala left Tibet in 1972 and came back to Sikkim, where he has been ever since. He has 11 children (9 living) and 7 grandchildren. Pala wakes up at 3am to do 1 hour of meditation followed by 1 hour of yoga.

His schedule, to a certain extent becomes your schedule because he cooks, the meal times, and because the electricity goes our around 6PM.

One night the five of us decided to give tongba, an alcoholic drink made from fermented barley that you drink out of enormous bamboo cups through long bamboo straws, a try. To drink it, you pour hot water over the barley and then sip the liquid through the straw. As you keep pouring hot water on it, the drink seemingly lasts forever. I actually have no idea how long it goes because none of us were able to finish them, if that is even possible. In any case, it tasted good but the experience of drinking it by candlelight inside Pala’s house was even better. Avri claimed to be unaffected but clearly was. Joyce (Asian) turned red. Alex felt something close to a high. David and I felt nothing. It was still cool.

One day the five of us went for a walk to drive to find some monestry. After not long, David and I were the only ones game to continue and pressed on. I am not sure we realized it at the time, but we were never going to find the monestry and the hike was the real adventure. At some point, after falling twice in succession, David said he was turning around. I felt fine (and had not yet fallen) so I pressed on. I found some other path that lead to a couple villages and got really close to a waterfall that could be heard but not seen. I suspect I enjoy the sounds of the crashing water more than the sight anyway so I was happy with that. Many, many leeches were attached to my feet by the time I returned to Palas. Then I had yak liver and stomach for dinner.

The following day Alex, Joyce, David, and I (Avri had left) we with one of Pala's sons/grandsons to a cave. This time we brought salt to combat the leeches, which was effective. This hike was near impossible. The leeches were a hundred times worse than the hike I did the previous day. We seemed to walk forever. The "guide" spoke no English but just said "yes" to any and every question. At some point, Alex, Joyce, and I decided to turn around. We returned to Palas at 2:30, 2.5 hours after lunch was served, so it was waiting for us on a table. We were starved and gorged ourselves. David returned some time later (we bet on when he would return as we did the duration of jeep rides) and he said the cave was another 45 minutes past we were left and while walking at a clip 1.5 times faster than we had been walking before. And that the cave sucked. According to David it was a tiny cave and not at all worth the hike, which was not all the enjoyable by itself as the previous day's had been.

We spent three nights at Palas and if not for the leeches, I would consider spending a month there.

From there, we went to the famed Yuksom, were are was really, really sick, did nothing, and still had a great time. Upon our arrival in Yuksom, I quickly got off the jeep to get some information from somebody I recognized on the side of the road. Alex and Joyce got off and the jeep took off...with my black bag in it. I was not happy. A local came up to me and said this was a dead-end and the jeep was just going up the hill a bit to get washed and would return soon. I did not want to take any chances so I started up the hill. I did not get far when a man on a motorbike was headed toward me with my bag in tow. "Your bag?" "Yes. Thank you." "This is Sikkim, not India," which perfectly sums up Sikkim.

There is little to do in Yuksom but walk around a little bit and hang out so the fact that I spent my entire time there within a 10 minute walk of our hosetl did not limit what I did much. At one point, however, I decided that I was not going to do "nothing" that day and set out for a walk alone. I made it about 15 minutes of light, slow walking before I was in too exhausted to go on. I turned around and went back to bed. No doubt this sounds like I had a bad time in Yuksom, but I did not at all and it turned out to be one of my favorite places in Sikkim.

Alex left Joyce and I in Yuksom to catch and train and then a flight to Rajasthan, where she was volunteering. Joyce changed her plans to stay in India for a bit longer. Joyce and I headed slightly south, to Darjeeling, where we had another THF (Tiger Hill Fail), then we split ways as she continued south to Kolkata and then Orissa and I went east to the little-travelled Northeastern States.