McLeod Ganj, Dharamsala, Thursday 24 January 2013
Today's walk was up to the sacred Dal Lake four kilometres above here. I managed not to get lost this time. The lake is more like a large stagnant pond, about the size of a football pitch, complete with a Hindu temple on its shores. A sign informs you that there's a fair held there every September when devotees take a dip in the sacred lake. You'd have to be fond to get in thon. Bizarrely, there was a duck boat marooned at one end, of the type you'd find in Newcastle boating lake (for those of you from Norn Iron!).
On a flat patch of grass at one end, some young boys were busy playing cricket. Who knows... maybe the next Sachin Tendulkar was among them.
I had a quick peak in a drop-in mediation hall overlooking the lake. Yoga chants were playing over a stereo system, but the building was empty. Any sanctity to be enjoyed at the scruffy lake was soon dispatched by the stream of taxis bringing non-walkers up from McLeod for a quick pic.
I walked on for another few km and soon arrived in a village called Naddi. It consisted of some hotels, shops and houses along the roadside, stretching out for half a kilometre or so. It's clearly a place with ambition, with several new hotels being built - I assume to cater to the trekker trade.
The road appeared to dead end at the top of the town, where a few small cafes and souvenir shops huddled, and I followed a track heading off along a valley side, overlooking a school.
This trail led into a meditation centre. Perhaps it continued beyond, but I decided I'd gone as far as I was going to go for the day and turned back. I've this insane fear that someone's going to come out of these meditation joints and try to convert me to something or other. Ridiculous, of course, given they don't run about offering their services to people for free - you've to pay for the privilege.
I sat on a boulder looking across the valley and up to the higher snow-capped peaks, had a snack, and decided to spend half an hour on the Hindi characters. I was scribbling away and hardly noticed two Indian women and a man approach. One of the women read over my shoulder when she saw that I was trying to write in the Devanagari script. I showed her my phrasebook and asked her to write a few of the characters for me - it's not easy to know what order the strokes should be written in. The other woman soon joined in, and we had a quick pronunciation practice as well, until the man clucked at them both to come on about their business. I sat and read my book, then, for a while, just soaking up the sunshine. What a lovely way to spend an hour.
On the way back down to McLeod Ganj, I called in at a workshop linked to the Tibetan Children's Village, a charity that supports refugee children. At the office, I found a Tibetan man on duty, and, although the workshop was closed, he spent a good while chatting to me about the organisation's work and Tibet in general. They offer training to newly arrived Tibetans in various crafts, from weaving to paper making, and they support those with mental or physical disabilities, who can't work.
The Tibetan community has the municipal contract for waste management in this area. They collect and sort waste, and recycle or compost what they can. The paper that they make and sell is made from old cotton clothing, like jeans, which people donate. They have an environmental education centre in McLeod Ganj, where you can buy paper products, like photo frames and notebooks. They only make paper during certain months of the year - avoiding winter and monsoon, when they wouldn't be able to get the paper dried.
Arriving back into town, I had a honey, lemon and ginger tea at the cafe linked to the Tibetan Children's Village, at a table next to four monks in their robes, chatting in the sun and busy on their mobile phones. It seems such an anachronism - that centuries old style of dress and the latest in smartphone technology.
So, all in all a very relaxing day, and no crazy incidents - so far!
Today's walk was up to the sacred Dal Lake four kilometres above here. I managed not to get lost this time. The lake is more like a large stagnant pond, about the size of a football pitch, complete with a Hindu temple on its shores. A sign informs you that there's a fair held there every September when devotees take a dip in the sacred lake. You'd have to be fond to get in thon. Bizarrely, there was a duck boat marooned at one end, of the type you'd find in Newcastle boating lake (for those of you from Norn Iron!).
 |
| Dal Lake - complete with duck boat! |
On a flat patch of grass at one end, some young boys were busy playing cricket. Who knows... maybe the next Sachin Tendulkar was among them.
 |
| Six! |
I had a quick peak in a drop-in mediation hall overlooking the lake. Yoga chants were playing over a stereo system, but the building was empty. Any sanctity to be enjoyed at the scruffy lake was soon dispatched by the stream of taxis bringing non-walkers up from McLeod for a quick pic.
 |
| The meditation centre at Dal Lake |
I walked on for another few km and soon arrived in a village called Naddi. It consisted of some hotels, shops and houses along the roadside, stretching out for half a kilometre or so. It's clearly a place with ambition, with several new hotels being built - I assume to cater to the trekker trade.
 |
| A hotel-to-be in Naddi |
The road appeared to dead end at the top of the town, where a few small cafes and souvenir shops huddled, and I followed a track heading off along a valley side, overlooking a school.
 |
| An enterprising resident of Naddi has thought of a good way to make a bob or two, by providing telescopic views of the peaks, for ten rupees a peek. |
This trail led into a meditation centre. Perhaps it continued beyond, but I decided I'd gone as far as I was going to go for the day and turned back. I've this insane fear that someone's going to come out of these meditation joints and try to convert me to something or other. Ridiculous, of course, given they don't run about offering their services to people for free - you've to pay for the privilege.
I sat on a boulder looking across the valley and up to the higher snow-capped peaks, had a snack, and decided to spend half an hour on the Hindi characters. I was scribbling away and hardly noticed two Indian women and a man approach. One of the women read over my shoulder when she saw that I was trying to write in the Devanagari script. I showed her my phrasebook and asked her to write a few of the characters for me - it's not easy to know what order the strokes should be written in. The other woman soon joined in, and we had a quick pronunciation practice as well, until the man clucked at them both to come on about their business. I sat and read my book, then, for a while, just soaking up the sunshine. What a lovely way to spend an hour.
 |
| Comings and goings in downtown Naddi |
 |
| Now that's a view |
On the way back down to McLeod Ganj, I called in at a workshop linked to the Tibetan Children's Village, a charity that supports refugee children. At the office, I found a Tibetan man on duty, and, although the workshop was closed, he spent a good while chatting to me about the organisation's work and Tibet in general. They offer training to newly arrived Tibetans in various crafts, from weaving to paper making, and they support those with mental or physical disabilities, who can't work.
The Tibetan community has the municipal contract for waste management in this area. They collect and sort waste, and recycle or compost what they can. The paper that they make and sell is made from old cotton clothing, like jeans, which people donate. They have an environmental education centre in McLeod Ganj, where you can buy paper products, like photo frames and notebooks. They only make paper during certain months of the year - avoiding winter and monsoon, when they wouldn't be able to get the paper dried.
Arriving back into town, I had a honey, lemon and ginger tea at the cafe linked to the Tibetan Children's Village, at a table next to four monks in their robes, chatting in the sun and busy on their mobile phones. It seems such an anachronism - that centuries old style of dress and the latest in smartphone technology.
So, all in all a very relaxing day, and no crazy incidents - so far!
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