As I left a still sleepy Sangrur at 8.30 in the morning, the point was clear and throbbing in my head. Need to reach Jaisalmer. That was the first mistake.
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McLeodganj is a quaint little town with about 4 radial roads going out from the city cetre which end before you can say ‘kaput!’. And on those 4 roads, shops sell everything from locally made handicrafts to can’t-find-even-in-Mumbai chocolates. There are Buddhist monks everywhere. The Bullet’s roaring sounds is in the air. You hear Hindi and English the least and what you hear doesn’t make much sense. People from all over the world are here. The Dalai Lama’s home is nice and pretty. Definitely worth coming. But if I am here to “see” anything, there is nothing but disappointment. No temples. No museums. No snow filled resorts. Nothing. Which is the reason why not too many Indian tourists come here. And thank god for that!
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When I slept last night, I did not know where I will go. I wanted to go to Ganganagar but the only person I knew wasn’t responding and it wasn’t worth the effort to go all the way there for nothing. So it back to nothing.
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Amritsar is a place of many joys. Not the least of them is the amazing lassi, kebab and naan they make there. Two out of three, I had the night I arrived. Check.
Leave a CommentI was lucky to leave Srinagar on Day 23. Halfway across the route I was supposed to follow today, the Prime Minister was on his way to inaugurate a hydel power project and flag off a new train line to the state. Past Ramban, I was stopped. As was every single vehicle on the road creating the largest traffic stoppage I have ever seen with my eyes. It stretched for well over 15 kilometers (primarily because the traffic was all single file) and covered over 3 towns on the highway. Being a tiny little bike which can squeeze through the tiniest spaces, I wasn’t stopped until the very end.
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