We're up shortly after dawn, unused to the distinct chill in the air after Delhi's searing temperatures. There is no heat in the hotel, and the humidity is high--in fact we're peeking through swathes of clouds. We dress and are out the door by 5:20, ready to warm up by moving and eager to begin checking out this new town. The guard at the gate points us towards what we discover is "the Mall", actually about the only stretch of Darjeeling that is basically vehicle free. The locals have a definitely more Chinese cast to their faces, and while we can't tell, they seem to also be speaking a different language. Scores of all ages are out running, walking, and vigorously exercising with militaristic zeal. We end up at the main square, the Chowrastra, where a great stage is decked out with Hindu deities, lights and other items, along with a giant screen. It's quiet now; shops are tightly shut, but the town is simmering with energy. In the distance we catch a mirage-like glimmer of the distant Himalayas. Kanchenjunga, the third highest peak in the world, rises a mere 100 miles away, and on a clear day is easily spotted from this walkway.
https://photos.app.goo.gl/B6sv1JLvg9sNvJ3L9
Darjeeling oozes into every crack, spilling from its central spine along the hills and mountains. While there is lots of green all around, the scars of rampant building are everywhere. Roads and tracks zigzag up and down the steep hills in labyrinthine fashion. Traffic, even in these tiny streets is cacophonous and impatient. We forego the "mandatory" haul to Tiger Hill where locals swear that the view of the sunrise over the Himalayas is legendary and not to be missed, especially since it seems evident that most mornings the mist and clouds rise quickly once the sun is up, and that the view from the Mall--when, in fact, there is one--is probably about as good as it gets. That magical sunrise moment --yes, it's a mere moment--is hardly justification for rising at 3:30 in the morning! To each his own.
We walk the Mall each dawn, and have one clear day when the mountains truly appear out of the mist. They are stupefyingly beautiful and impossibly high. Generally the clouds begin rising out of the deep valleys as soon as the sun rises, and within a short time whatever may have been visible of the monumental vistas disappears with a quiet exhale of air. The morning we did see the view we could barely keep our eyes elsewhere--mesmerized and intoxicated with the scene.
https://photos.app.goo.gl/Fywkidfwb8sfP6c19
Our wandering often ended up at the central square, sober in the morning, and by afternoon crowded with vendors, families, musicians, horse owners selling rides to children, untold number of stray dogs complete with the backdrop of some celebration or performance at the main amphitheatre. Tea sellers are everywhere, and there is an organization that is distributing a free meal of rice and dal every afternoon.
We find our way to the zoo, visit its dusty snow leopards, and its lone Himalayan wolf along with a selection of birds and depressed looking monkeys. By all accounts, though, they are doing great things to keep these species around for the future. The grounds also house the Himalayan Mountaineering Institute, brought to life by Tenzing Norgay Sherpa--who together with Edmund Hillary was the first to reach Everest's summit in 1953. There is a nicely organized display of the history of local climbs with artifacts used in the ascents along with photos. Tenzing Norgay's ashes are entombed on the premises per his express wishes. At the entrance to the zoo, locals and Indian tourists--there are hardly any foreign tourists to be seen in Darjeeling--there is a small shop where you can dress up in local costumes, much to the delight of many, who seem to make this their principal diversion while at visiting the zoo.
We also visit one of the old tea estates in town--Happy Valley--now rimmed by the town, and no longer an estate of any sort. There is a rudimentary factory and a short tour explaining how the tea is processed, followed by a quick tasting session and a stop in the shop. Sadly the tea shop that used to offer a place to sit and sip is long gone.
Miraculously, we also find our way to the botanic gardens, although truth be told, even Google Maps couldn't really find it. We weave downhill through a packed market/bazaar and head into the valley, where we find someone who says to just keep going, and amazingly there it is. A small oasis, originally owned by the owner's of Lloyd's of London, the garden is a little run-down, but a definite respite from the hordes and the noise. It sports a couple of nice greenhouses, mostly with orchids and annuals, and two gorgeous wisteria "trees" which have been led to meet each other over a trellised roof. These were planted in the mid 1800's when Lloyd first acquired the property.
We look around Observatory Hill, which lies above the Mall we walk each morning, and which is the site of the original temples in Darjeeling, along with one of its more traditional colonial era hotels. In a different area of this higgledy piggledy town, we visit the lovingly arranged Tibetan Culture Museum, showing some of the history and customs of the people, following some of the highlights of the Dalai Lama's life, and culminating in a stunning sand mandala.
Despite maddeningly narrow jam-packed streets, we enjoy watching the flow of life all around us: the markets, the daily rituals of gathering water--there seems to be a serious issue with access to running water--the early morning rituals of partaking in some tea or a small meal at the roadside, the opening of shops, the caretakers of the horses readying them for their daily tours, the endless sweeping of dirt and dust from one corner of town to another, school-children snacking, the relentless calls of shopkeepers, and the unexpected view of a couple of hotel cleaners poking at a snake in the hotel's open lobby, gingerly gathering it up on their stick and depositing it across the street.
We make a ritual of stopping in at Glenary's each afternoon--a bakery/cafe with a view on one of the main shopping streets in town, and settle in at Lunar for a tasty Indian meal each evening. The Oxford bookshop on the Chowrastra is a surprisingly complete shop with extensive selections of books about the area, meditation, religious topics of all sorts, as well as a substantial number of novels by current Indian or Anglo-Indian writers. It seems funnily out of place.
Our final morning we head up to check out a placed called the Shrubbery, which is another finely groomed oasis which must provide some gorgeous views on a nice day--but while we enjoy the peaceful park, the clouds hide the mountains. Darjeeling is not quite the colonial gem I was imagining, but still not without its own ragged charm.
For pictures of some of our day explorations:
https://photos.app.goo.gl/D9qVtjUGhMueuqQy8
From Darjeeling we head back the several hours through a different area of tea plantations, arriving back at Bagdogra Airport to head on to Varanasi, holy city on the Ganges.
https://photos.app.goo.gl/B6sv1JLvg9sNvJ3L9
Darjeeling oozes into every crack, spilling from its central spine along the hills and mountains. While there is lots of green all around, the scars of rampant building are everywhere. Roads and tracks zigzag up and down the steep hills in labyrinthine fashion. Traffic, even in these tiny streets is cacophonous and impatient. We forego the "mandatory" haul to Tiger Hill where locals swear that the view of the sunrise over the Himalayas is legendary and not to be missed, especially since it seems evident that most mornings the mist and clouds rise quickly once the sun is up, and that the view from the Mall--when, in fact, there is one--is probably about as good as it gets. That magical sunrise moment --yes, it's a mere moment--is hardly justification for rising at 3:30 in the morning! To each his own.
We walk the Mall each dawn, and have one clear day when the mountains truly appear out of the mist. They are stupefyingly beautiful and impossibly high. Generally the clouds begin rising out of the deep valleys as soon as the sun rises, and within a short time whatever may have been visible of the monumental vistas disappears with a quiet exhale of air. The morning we did see the view we could barely keep our eyes elsewhere--mesmerized and intoxicated with the scene.
https://photos.app.goo.gl/Fywkidfwb8sfP6c19
Our wandering often ended up at the central square, sober in the morning, and by afternoon crowded with vendors, families, musicians, horse owners selling rides to children, untold number of stray dogs complete with the backdrop of some celebration or performance at the main amphitheatre. Tea sellers are everywhere, and there is an organization that is distributing a free meal of rice and dal every afternoon.
We find our way to the zoo, visit its dusty snow leopards, and its lone Himalayan wolf along with a selection of birds and depressed looking monkeys. By all accounts, though, they are doing great things to keep these species around for the future. The grounds also house the Himalayan Mountaineering Institute, brought to life by Tenzing Norgay Sherpa--who together with Edmund Hillary was the first to reach Everest's summit in 1953. There is a nicely organized display of the history of local climbs with artifacts used in the ascents along with photos. Tenzing Norgay's ashes are entombed on the premises per his express wishes. At the entrance to the zoo, locals and Indian tourists--there are hardly any foreign tourists to be seen in Darjeeling--there is a small shop where you can dress up in local costumes, much to the delight of many, who seem to make this their principal diversion while at visiting the zoo.
We also visit one of the old tea estates in town--Happy Valley--now rimmed by the town, and no longer an estate of any sort. There is a rudimentary factory and a short tour explaining how the tea is processed, followed by a quick tasting session and a stop in the shop. Sadly the tea shop that used to offer a place to sit and sip is long gone.
Miraculously, we also find our way to the botanic gardens, although truth be told, even Google Maps couldn't really find it. We weave downhill through a packed market/bazaar and head into the valley, where we find someone who says to just keep going, and amazingly there it is. A small oasis, originally owned by the owner's of Lloyd's of London, the garden is a little run-down, but a definite respite from the hordes and the noise. It sports a couple of nice greenhouses, mostly with orchids and annuals, and two gorgeous wisteria "trees" which have been led to meet each other over a trellised roof. These were planted in the mid 1800's when Lloyd first acquired the property.
We look around Observatory Hill, which lies above the Mall we walk each morning, and which is the site of the original temples in Darjeeling, along with one of its more traditional colonial era hotels. In a different area of this higgledy piggledy town, we visit the lovingly arranged Tibetan Culture Museum, showing some of the history and customs of the people, following some of the highlights of the Dalai Lama's life, and culminating in a stunning sand mandala.
Despite maddeningly narrow jam-packed streets, we enjoy watching the flow of life all around us: the markets, the daily rituals of gathering water--there seems to be a serious issue with access to running water--the early morning rituals of partaking in some tea or a small meal at the roadside, the opening of shops, the caretakers of the horses readying them for their daily tours, the endless sweeping of dirt and dust from one corner of town to another, school-children snacking, the relentless calls of shopkeepers, and the unexpected view of a couple of hotel cleaners poking at a snake in the hotel's open lobby, gingerly gathering it up on their stick and depositing it across the street.
We make a ritual of stopping in at Glenary's each afternoon--a bakery/cafe with a view on one of the main shopping streets in town, and settle in at Lunar for a tasty Indian meal each evening. The Oxford bookshop on the Chowrastra is a surprisingly complete shop with extensive selections of books about the area, meditation, religious topics of all sorts, as well as a substantial number of novels by current Indian or Anglo-Indian writers. It seems funnily out of place.
Our final morning we head up to check out a placed called the Shrubbery, which is another finely groomed oasis which must provide some gorgeous views on a nice day--but while we enjoy the peaceful park, the clouds hide the mountains. Darjeeling is not quite the colonial gem I was imagining, but still not without its own ragged charm.
For pictures of some of our day explorations:
https://photos.app.goo.gl/D9qVtjUGhMueuqQy8
From Darjeeling we head back the several hours through a different area of tea plantations, arriving back at Bagdogra Airport to head on to Varanasi, holy city on the Ganges.
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