Darjeeling Diaries 2

I came to Darjeeling with a fear that it would turn out to be a dirty, congested town. One of the many disadvantages (the advantages though outnumber them) of going to a place after almost every living being. A friend asked me on the phone, “Isn’t it too congested?” I was pleasantly surprised to note that it wasn’t. The tourists were of course there in large numbers, making the place crowded. But in a country of more than one billion, wasn’t it always going to be a daunting task to find a place that was completely detached from the rest of the world? Unlike some of the North-Eastern states, where in spite of the natural treasures, the tourism is yet to flourish, Darjeeling has been a tourist attraction since the pre-independence days.

Also, I think when these people talk of congestion they somehow choose to ignore their own surroundings. Darjeeling is not even 1/1000th as congested as Calcutta and it would take it millions of years to even reach that mark. This emotion would have been easier for me to appreciate if these people were from Lausanne or Christchurch. Surprisingly, tourists from these places agreed with my observations.

Darjeeling has all the features of a beautiful hill station and many more. Picturesque bungalows, snow covered peaks, pine forests, a riot of colours in the various species of orchids, rhododendrons and lilies, the Buddhist monasteries, quiet and mysterious alleys all of a sudden leading you to a breathtaking view – in short, the works.

In addition, the town has its famous eateries, coffee shops and pubs offering you an out of the world view of the Eastern Shivalik range of the Himalayas. The local Nepalese population is largely friendly and hospitable. The young crowd is seemingly carefree in their attitude and overtly Western when it comes to style statements. A group of young Nepalese singing in chorus while the world goes by is a common sight in The Mall, the heart of Darjeeling. And in my estimate, one out of every ten kids I saw carried a guitar.

I forgot to mention that it’s been more than 48 hours since I started writing about Darjeeling. I went to Shangri La twice after that first visit and currently I’m sitting at The Buzz, the most happening pub in Darjeeling which is also a part of the famous Bakery-cum-Restaurant, The Glenary’s.

I have moved from beer to whisky, back to beer and currently gin is my favoured drink. Now a lot of people say that gin causes male impotency. I know it’s not true because I’ve seen my father drink gin more than once. In any case, I am not particularly excited at the idea of growing up kids. Sorry for the heartbreaks.

As must be evident by now, I’m not really in a position to chart a detailed tour map of Darjeeling. First of all, in the last three days, I haven’t managed a glimpse Kanchenjunga. I haven’t been to the Rangeet Tea Estate, one of the major tourist attractions of Darjeeling and neither have I tried my hand at white water rafting at Teesta Bazaar. I even had to skip the world famous Toy Train ride. But I still have fallen in love with Darjeeling and like most places, I have realised that one doesn’t really have to check out all the tourist attractions to discover its charm. Tomorrow I will bid adieu to the Queen of the Hills and head for Mirik.

I so wish I stayed here for the rest of my life.

Darjeeling Diaries 1

I’m sitting in a pub (they call it a Bar-cum-Restaurant) called Shangri La in Darjeeling. It has a wooden floor, wooden furniture, a jukebox that plays anything from Reggae to Punjabi and a huge dog (a real one that almost resembles a yak!). Oh, it also has a signboard saying, ‘Recommended by Lonely Planet’. How ironic!

Sitting here, I realise how boring my life is. What am I doing here on my first day in Darjeeling sipping beer? It’s a nice and cosy place with that British sort of a feel and it’s hard to find a waterhole like this in Calcutta but at the end of the day, it’s a pub goddamnit! Shouldn’t I be out on the streets considering I’m one of those rare creatures who were born in the state of West Bengal and finally managed their first trip to Darjeeling after three decades of suffering this world?

I have a pretty solid excuse though. Quite a few of them actually. Firstly, there’s the beer. Secondly, it’s raining outside. Thirdly, this place has been recommended by Lonely Planet. I realise I’m the only one to be blamed for this. I realise what a boring person I am.

And why pray am I writing about it? It’s pretty simple. I obviously harbour this secret wish that someday someone will read about it. So, what it means is that while I keep bragging about how boring I am, I want people to appreciate all about it by reading this. Amazing!

I have been to hill stations before. I have been to Shimla, Kulu, Manali, Chamba, Dalhoussie, Khajiar in Himachal Pradesh. I was a part of the Amarnath Yatra starting from Pehelgam in Kashmir and ending at the Holy Cave, almost 4000 meters above sea-level via Chandanwari-Sheshnag-Panchtarani as a 10-year old. I have been to Bomdila and Tawang in Arunachal Pradesh as also Mount Abu in Rajasthan apart from frequent summer treks in the Western Ghats in the state of Maharashtra when I was in college. But this is my first trip to Darjeeling, the Queen of the Hills which is only 15 hours away from my home in Calcutta.

On my first trip to North Bengal, I had gone to Jaldapara Reserve Forest in Duars, about three hours from Siliguri. Darjeeling would be about the same distance from Siliguri albeit it’s a different route altogether. That was more of a jungle expedition in the summers and I was desperate for at least a glimpse of one of the handful of tigers (the official estimate was six in April 2006) in the forest.
I was briefly introduced to the beauty of North Bengal -- the lush green tea gardens and the cloud covered peaks on my way to North Khairabari from Siliguri via Chapramari. Later, after a number of unsuccessful attempts at spotting the elusive big cat (we had actually managed to record the roars of one), I had gone to see a village inhabited by a tribe named Rava.

This in comparison is more of a quiet vacation. Does that justify my presence in the pub?