The Stones Fell Down

Travelling North from Alchi

27^th April

Last night was probably my best sleep so far.  The bed was relatively comfortable, I only woke up once coughing and then I could boil some hot water to drink.  Back to sleep and did not wake until the alarm went off.

It was so wonderfully quiet in the morning –no dogs barking, vehicles passing or people talking outside.

The hot water that would be in the taps in my bathroom at 7am did not happen, so I boiled the jug, poured it into the bucket and added (a bit too much) cold and had a very quick mandi bath.  At least I could boil water myself, albeit in small quantities.

Stunning rocks and colourful shales

Breakfast came pretty much as ordered apart from the addition of cornflakes and hot milk, to which I had said “no” the previous evening when ordering breakfast.  They got sent back.

We headed towards Rizong monastery, along the rather scenic Indus river.  The gorges in places are impressive and the surrounding mountains vary so much in form and colour.  I request a stop at one stage to photograph sedimentary layers that are vertical – and showing a wonderful assortment of colours.  The colours of the rocks, the shale, the gravel and the sands are incredibly varied and really beautiful – as they are in all parts of Ladakha that I have visited.  

The approach to the Rizong Monastery -
the old road: note what remains of it on the right

I sometimes look at the changing colours in the sands (which are often on  a serious slope and think they would translate to a wonderfully hand painted silk scarf.  I certainly don’t have the skills to do this though.

I have been introduced to one rock/clay that in ancient times was collected and used as shampoo and today I am introduced to one that is a very soft mudstone that can be easily dissolved and used in place of plaster in building houses.

I am somewhat intrigued by a row of 100 small stupas – and am told that this occurs all over Ladakha, but cannot glean any information about their special significance.

On the way we stop to give a ride to a nun who is walking.   Apparently in the past it was the job of the nuns to do the mundane work for the monks – cultivate the fields, look after the animals, spin and weave and make the garments, etc.  We drop the nun at the nunnery and proceed to the monastery, nestled well up the valley, where we visit a few temples.

Rizong Monastery

The "most difficult" peak

We admire the view for a while and Riga points out one mountain, which he says is the most difficult to summit.  As we return to the car we spot some “mountain chicken” (partridge)

and I manage a halfway reasonable photo.  We return to the valley, seeing more evidence of damage from the 2010 floods.  I request a photo stop for a plant that is in flower, which is OK for cows to eat but toxic to horses and donkeys.  When I have some level of reasonable internet access I must Google to try to identify it. 

While I am photographing the plant Riga quietly informs me that there is a woman in traditional dress approaching and I should take a photo.  When I first asked him to ask someone if I could photograph them, he did so, and the person declined (at least, that was how I interpreted the non-verbal gesture) and subsequently said I should just take photographs if I wished, as many have been offered money in return for being a photographic subject and now tend to ask, and he does not approve of this.  I explained my wish to ask permission from experience with photographing people of other cultures in other countries.

Lady in traditional Ladakhi dress

As we are passing through some steep areas, a sign warns us of “shooting stone slide area”. An amusing use of the English language.

We pass yet another army base, this one with a couple of old guns trained on the mountain across the river

We are travelling on the main road to Kargil and Srinagar – across to Kashmir.  I have assumed that the road is closed due to snow on the passes, but no, it is passed because of insurgent action.  I inquire further about the road south to Manali.  We have crossed the highest motorable pass in the country (albeit not without incident) and the passes through to Manali are lower.  However there are 5 of them and there is about a 100km stretch with no villages so no road maintenance of clearing of the snow: thus it is still closed.

Poisonous to horses etc, but OK for cows.  ID anyone?

At the police station at the village of Khaltsi, we are stopped for a license and general paperwork check.  The presence of a man with a fairly serious looking gun provides additional incentive to comply.  There are delays; some paperwork is missing.  The vehicle compliance check certificate is not in the car and Bublo will have to return next month to face court for this offence.

We proceed on to “moonland”; and area that I assumed was named for its resemblance to a lunar landscape … assume nothing … it is so named because of its beauty under the light of the full moon.  

Guns aimed at???

It is an interesting landscape and the story goes that the lama who founded the Lamayuru Monastery meditated on a small island in the middle of what was then a lake and since there was nowhere for people to farm, he drained the lake.  I think there was a Naga or evil serpent involved somehow.  The monastery itself is perched high on pillars that could be sandstone, in a most impressive location.

While exploring the ancient and even more ancient temples, we passed by one of the old, traditional houses, and hanging on the wall was an Ibex head and horns.  This is probably as close as I will get to seeing one.  

Just stop here for a check - please

Heading towards some steps, Riga gives me the heads up to get my camera ready, a lady in traditional dress is approaching.  She was carrying water she had fetched from mountain stream as she did not like the taste of what came out of the taps provided by the government at some convenient central point.

Lunch was at the adjacent hotel, and I expressed some concern at the prices which were quite high (by Indian standards) – as the driver and guide are expected to buy their own lunches.  Riga told me that while drivers and guides did not eat free, there was a special price for them.  I would hope so: they were served a plate of rice with dhal – a meal that some of my Bhutanese friends would have classified as a small child’s meal.  Their meal was supplemented by mine, though.  I had asked about the serving quantity and size and interpreted that a plate of spring rolls and a plate of pakora would be just right.  Wrong.  The pakora alone would have been sufficient but my crew helped me out.

more stunning rocks

We are to take the old road, which is more scenic, on our return journey.  There are a couple of amazing viewpoints and we stop to look at a wolf trap that was used by the nomads.  Wolves taking stock was quite a problem for them.

As we progressed, there were a few smaller rocks on the road, at which Riga remarked, “the rocks fell down”.  This became a masterful understatement as we progressed, slowly.  More and more rocks had “fallen down” and rocks in the middle of the road that Bublu swerved to avoid took us close to the precipitous edge – even more worrisome when the road to the precipitous edge was undercut and showing signs of falling down.  

Wolf trap used by nomads

At one stage Riga got out to move rocks and was walking ahead of us – a passing silly though involved the waving of a red flag while he was doing this.  There were small landslips along what seemed like a very long stretch, but the milestones suggested a much shorter stretch, and one had deposited a relatively enormous boulder in the middle of the road.  I was relieved that Bublu elected to navigate this on the inside, but had my doubts about the practicality of it and inquired as to whether we should turn around and go back   We continued on the grounds that it would eventually get better, but there were a couple of stretches where I suggested maybe we should walk the road first – including one rather scary bit that appeared to be undercut on both sides. 

Moonland

Bublu approached this gently, but once round the corner stepped on the accelerator – presumably to get out of there as quickly as possible.  I requested a stop – and both my crew got out to inspect the situation.  Sand mining operations were responsible for this undercutting.  Duuhhh!

The rest of the return journey to Alchi was relatively uneventful and I declined the offer of a short hike across the Indus to a small village – it was getting late and my head cold is still taking its toll on my energy level. 

Riga checking the road and clearing some rocks

 After dinner (which Riga shared with me once again) we looked at more of his photos, this time many were of his two years spent in southern Ladakha with the nomads.  

There were photos of his sheep (a very naughty line from Owen in The Vicar of Dibley comes to mind), and many photos of yaks; also some photos of wild animals including wild sheep of a species I cannot remember but which were huge – the male is horned and as he ages, the horns become huge, which becomes a problem for him eating the short grass in winter – he just cannot reach it.

just nice scenery

A very scary bit of road