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Spellbound in Spiti ... across Himachal's cold mountain desert Photographs and text: Thelma Taylor A picture in the March '99 issue of the National Geographic magazine has motivated me to write and relive a most memorable holiday that I spent in the Himalayas last June. The National Geographic describes them as, "sandstone pinnacles eroded by rainfall". And that was a description from the Sahara desert in Chad! I saw similar structures in the cold desert in the Spiti valley of the Himalayas. I called them gigantic ant hills! Similarities could have been more pronounced were I as good a photographer with better equipment! My knowledge of geography and geology is almost negligible. So is my ability to be eloquent. But I have two eyes and a heart with a spirit and that is all one needs to see this remote area of our country, just once... and experience the departure of problems and tension from the mind, almost forever! Our ancestors walked for months and years to reach these mountains to acquire internal peace. External joy was an additional treasure and some never returned to the plains again. About eloquence -- this tiny jewel, Spiti, in the world's grandest mountain system, I think would have left Omar Khayyam speechless! As we drove along the Sutlej river, suddenly at Khabo we were greeted by an astounding scene. Clear, white and calm waters of the Spiti river flowed into the muddy, grey and foamy waters of the Sutlej... a grand confluence of two rivers... absolutely beautiful! After Khabo, nature gradually draws a curtain over the lush green and vibrant Kinnaur and heralds the entrance of the exotic and enchanting land of Spiti. Between Jangi and Speelo, coniferous trees become obscure and brown mountains loom ahead and play a strange, soundless, melancholic tune which lulls you into a trance. A travelogue, I read, described it as: "higher altitudes, a cold desert full of river valleys, high passes, snow peaks, icy lakes and glaciers." The travelogue did not prepare us for the breath taking exposure of the entrails of the rock bound earth. Brown rock painted artistically by a super natural power -- with dashes of chocolate, black and white. As the rays of the setting sun played among those rocks, I had visions of Gregory Peck emerging from somewhere -- riding on a grand stallion -- in search of Spiti's gold! However, Spiti Valley has no stallions. Only donkeys, covered with thick chocolate coloured hair. There were a few sheep and goats but as we climbed higher we saw quite a few herds of yak. Sometimes we even saw them defying the strong currents of the river to reach a patch of grey-white sand. The only birds we saw were a kind of raven with a smaller, slightly curved bright orange beak. Spiti is countryside dotted with monasteries; there are almost thirty of them. All the houses are white washed with black painted window and door frames. They have flat thatched roots, prepared in traditional style, to keep the houses warm and safe from rain and snow. Often known as Little Tibet, it follows a strong Buddhist tradition, it maintains a rich old cultural heritage. We started from Shimla, which is the capital town of Himachal Pradesh and drove along the National Highway 22. We passed through the wondrous Kinnaur district, along the Sutlej river and later along the Spiti river till we reached Sumdoh. From Sumdoh we steered northwest towards the Spiti Valley. Incidentally, Sumdoh is known as the gateway to Spiti. We first visited Tabo in Spiti. It has the oldest gompa in the district. Over 10,000 ft above sea level, it has just celebrated its first millennium in 1997. A protected monument, it is famous for its exquisite wall paintings, which show the most minute of details. One section has nine thousand and ninety nine different faces of the Buddha! A thousand years old, well protected and preserved by the monks, Tabo is called the Ajanta of the Himalayas. The courtyard has piles of manes (flat stones with religious inscriptions) that neatly displayed artistic calligraphy very sacred; not to be touched. On our upward journey towards Kaza (headquarters of the Spiti sub-division) we visited the Dhankar gompa. Our vehicle traversed through a treacherous, precipitous road, to reach a height of 12,000 ft. There stood the ancient fort and monastery of Dhankar. The strong icy winds in early June were amazing. We could barely keep our feet on the ground. The scenic landscape was spectacular. I could never have imagined that shades of brown could blend so beautifully; nor would I have ever dreamt that brown desolation could look so beautiful. Kaza was quite a busy place. There were government offices and employees. There were tourists, trekkers and quite a few vehicles. Every August a grand fair is held here and people from far away villages come here with their wares and spend time enjoying themselves. There are cultural programmes and we got to see the famous traditional dances of Lahaul and Spiti. At Kaza we tasted Yak meat momos! Of course there were no green vegetables. But we had pulses, cereals, potatoes and noodles. Beautiful women sported colourful scarves on their heads and each one wore pearls, coral and turquoise. They were friendly and cheerful. Nightfall exhibited a crystal clear navy blue sky, twinkling stars, silvery white snow peaks and serene silence. The next day we visited Kibber -- apparently the highest village in the world reachable by a motorable road. Such a thrilling experience. We actually felt as if we were on top of the world! Like most of the Spiti villages, an ancient chortan greeted us at the entrance. We crossed chortans from the left to avoid disrespect and ill-luck. Kibber was almost 14,000 ft high, but boasted of a coed school, a post office and a hospital, all of which functioned very effectively. It was heartening to see that the Himachal Pradesh government had made an excellent effort to keep even remote villages in touch with the modern world. They have preserved a vast area in the popular Pin valley as a sanctuary for the endangered Himalayan ibex and the snow leopard. To the best of my knowledge it’s the only one in the world. They have succeeded in cultivating this cold desert and often we were astonished to see green patches against the arid brown landscape. Close to Kibber, we stopped to visit Ki, which has the largest monastery in Spiti. Nestled cosily on a mountain side, it appeared like a scene straight out of a fairy tale. Little lamas clambered around us. The older ones were friendly and ready to give us information. The prayer rooms were adorned with beautiful antiques. We saw exquisite thankhas, which were almost 890 years old! With foreign aid and influence all these places were equipped with solar energy devices and had adequate supplies of electricity and hot water. Spiti has come a long way since the first Buddhist lamas came to live in mountains caves and built these temples and monasteries atop inaccessible mountains! Our holiday was over. We descended to lower heights. I kept looking back... as if Spiti kept beckoning me to return! A powerful sense of responsibility nudged me into 'plain' sensibility. But my eyes were dreamy, my heart was peaceful and my spirit entranced! Slide Show

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