Darjeeling

A trip down memory lane for some! New exploration for others! Will Darjeeling stand up to it?

Not without reasons, after all. Some not-so-favourable reports have been surfacing in the recent times that Darjeeling is no longer the same. Meanwhile, as news of our impending visit start spreading, some in-the-know relatives never forget reminding there are better places.

But we persist. Darjeeling has to be in, along with Gangtok or some other places. I plan two months in advance. Just a five day delay in booking train reservations deprives us of prime berths. No LBs, only MBs, UBs and SUs strewn all over the compartment. A matter of little joy, which somehow gets better as I later on come across friends wishing to visit but handicapped because of a severe crunch in train reservation availability options.

It is May, swirling hot at the plains, cool in the hills. Summer has arrived with all its force. The tourist season is well ensconced. Not just the middle class Bengalis, not just the bermuda Gujratis, but the entire country thrown in.

The journey from Sealdah to New Jalpaiguri passes off in a jiffy. At night we board the train, and by morning we are at NJP. The climate has already changed; the clean air is definitely a far cry from all the dust, the heat and the humidity of either Kolkata or Raipur. We get a Maruti Omni van just outside NJP station to take the five of us to Darjeeling.

We start approximately the same time as the Darjeeling Toy Train, the immensely popular and famed train from NJP. The train chugs along quietly and nicely, and takes a long, long time to reach its destination. But as they say, the path is breathtaking in the manner in which it presents views of the pristine beauty of the region.

We should have reached within four hours, but we dont. The van starts leaking its coolant after some four kilometres and begins to heat up in startlingly short spells. We are left with no options but to halt at regular intervals for water, thus getting delayed. The road which criss-crosses the narrow gauge rail line ever so frequently provides us interesting views of the toy train time and again. Another good thing about our stops is that we are treated to some extremely tasty and pure water that flows down the hills.

Mineral water, one of the local lads blurts, as he shares some H2O with us.

We reach Kurseong after so many such breaks that we lose count. We are now tired and desire for a quick reach at the destination. Some hot steaming tea refreshes us it has become chilly now. Our driver, on the other side of fifty, meanwhile tries gamely to repair his car, which also appears to be as old as him. The town offers a magnificent view at a height. A school is visible and I tease Anindita: Would you like to study here? The train from the other side zooms past; it offers a brilliant view, but by the time I can focus the camera, its gone. I just manage the behind.

Darjeeling is at approximately 7000 ft, but the road from NJP takes us much higher to Ghoom which is a thousand feet higher and also hosts the worlds highest railway station and the famous Batasia loop. It gets much colder. The backdrop of mountains with the clouds nestled in the crevices guarantee a wonderful feeling. Flowers deck the whole serenity; I scarcely have seen any other place more beautiful. We reach Darjeeling an hour behind schedule, but are more than willing to pardon the errant driver and his errant car, simply because they have just provided us with one of our best journeys.

It is difficult to describe Darjeeling. A combination of the dainty and the commercialised; may be. We stay at the centre of the town, at a small intersection from which five streets branch out. Not at five different directions, as you would think, but at five different altitudes. Thats a beauty which only hill stations offer, where thoughts as well as topographies arent restricted to one dimensional plane alone. But it is congested where we stay the effects of commercialisation and much tourist activity all at blatant display.

The street leading to the Mall is the most regal. One of the few places where vehicles are still not allowed, it provides an opportunity to free those legs and indulge in long dignified walks. Something Sushmita and I had missed for a fairly long time. The shops lined with tantalising displays too provide sufficient inducement at that grand process of lightening the pockets. And as we proceed along the street widening to the Mall, we are captivated by the locations, what do I say, sheer Englishness! Elegant coffee shops, book stores, and the like adorn the space, enticing us to just stay there, never move anywhere.

We enjoy the sights, and the long walks. The area near the Mall and both the streets leading to the Governor House and beyond are excellent, not just for a casual stroll but for enjoyment of Gods greatest gift to mankind the greens and the mountains, the eternal nature. I had heard a story of a young boy writing a letter to his grandfather from Darjeeling after he had just reached there: Grandfather, when you have to look for clouds, you look up, but we look down. I realise the truth on a particularly cloudy evening. Not that it is cloudy when we leave the hotel, but in such amazing vicinities, it doesnt take long for clouds to make sudden appearances. As we look below, we are astounded to see a thick blanket of fluffy white cloud serenading the valley. A dormant white cloud resting, as if it has made the valley its home. In no time, however, another cloud cover, a dark brooding sort, flying faster than Concord, envelopes the entire area. Visibility is reduced to zero as it pours heavily; we take a temporary shelter for half an hour and then scamper to the hotel room.

Darjeeling offers many sight seeing options the tour operators make much more than a decent buck. The sunrise at Tiger Hill, Mirik and Pashupati Market, Local 3 / 5 points and Rock Garden / Ganga Maiya Park. We select the last, excited by the fact that we would be descending 3500 ft. to the valley below and also have an opportunity to gaze at the beautiful country-side scenery. We are not disappointed. As we descend, not only are we treated to some excellent weather, forest formations and faraway waterfalls, but there are many tea plantations bejewelling the slopes to provide a fantastic view.

Darjeeling is most famous for its tea. The plantations are always on slopes, since the tea plants cant stand standing water. Combine this with the cool climate and you get the perfect recipe for a perfect tea. Never mind if all we do at our homes is just to fritter away that excellent aroma through some stubborn milked boiling. Not to be left behind, even the cups of tea which we devour at many places in the town, either in the hotel or at eateries outside, are quite tasteless so as to indicate that even though the locals have mastered the art of planting tea, they have yet to master the sublime art of preparing a nice enticing cup of the beverage.

We leave Darjeeling with mixed feelings, 90% good. The grandeur of the place, the old world charm, the enthralling natural beauty, the beautiful (clean) people with immaculate dress sense, the splendour of those flowers in all colours and shades, the magnificence of Mt Kanchenjunga, decked in golden the list is simply endless.

Yes, we had a glimpse of Mt.Kanchenjunga, the mighty Himalayan peak, in all its glory. Our stay at Darjeeling was short, short in the sense that we failed to totally absorb the magnificence of the queen of hill stations. We also didnt move much. Heavy rains on both the evenings bound us to our rooms. As we departed, we werent satisfied. Our hearts clamoured for more.

We promise to visit you again, Darjeeling. On the toy train!!!