... is the name of a john denver song... only he was referring to Colorado, whereas I'm referring (of course) to India. Shimla in fact... I mentioned it in the last blog post - tis the place where the old guard of the british empire used to come when the summer heat of delhi got too much for them to bear...
That's all well and good except that when it's between the seasons it tends to be wet, cold and pretty miserable... It's still breathtaking (once the fog and mist clears) but unfortunatly for us we've managed to come up here over 3 days of rain, the last of which has just turned to snow. An inch or so has fallen in the last hour and a bit... and it's not abating... last night the ranges we lit up with a majestic display of lightning whilst the rain poured hammering down on the metal roofs of the city.
That's all well and good except that when it's between the seasons it tends to be wet, cold and pretty miserable... It's still breathtaking (once the fog and mist clears) but unfortunatly for us we've managed to come up here over 3 days of rain, the last of which has just turned to snow. An inch or so has fallen in the last hour and a bit... and it's not abating... last night the ranges we lit up with a majestic display of lightning whilst the rain poured hammering down on the metal roofs of the city.
We arrived here via a 4 hour small narrow guage 'toy train' ride that meanders up the hills from a place called Kalka. The last stop for all 'proper' trains coming from the south. 18 passengers in each deluxe carraige - comfy(ish) if a little chilly. The ride up is pretty spectacular, the rail tracks clinging to the hills with often shear drops to the sides - somewhat unnerving and giving a certain sense of a roller coaster ride - at a snails pace. Due to the ratio of the incline the train moves very slowly, in some cases almost at walking pace.
When we arrived at the destination we quickly found our rooms which we were to spend the next 3 days. They were rudimentary to say the least. And under two heavy duvets and 1 bar electric heaters we sheltered from the cold inbetween watching dodgy hindi movies, playing scrabble and reading. The joys of international travel.
India's a funny old place. Last week were basking in the sweltering sunshine and now this, the snow and cold of the foothills of the himalayas. You'd have thought the place here would be set up to deal with the almost arctic conditions and I suppose it is - kind of - it's only when you attempt to find shelter from the rain, snow, sleet and wind that you realise that it seems to be more important for cafe/bar owners to keep the doors open, in a way one can only assume, is their attempt of making the place seem more inviting for customers to enter?
To a certain extent it's true, the heat coming from each of these establishments is enough to tempt you inside; and once inside the prevailing warmth is enough to tempt you further in and make you sit down and ultimatly order some warming soup or coffee or hot chocolate... it's only you've been sat for a while that you realise that it's not actually that warm in there, relative to the outside it is, but you'd have thought that someone would have the foresight to actually close the doors in a bid to keep the heat IN!? - thus allowing the patrons to remove and dry their wet clothing whilst consuming the sumptous delights on offer.
This simple oversight means that the majority of the establishments we've ventured into are full of people wearing wooly hats, scarves, gloves, heavy cloaks and coats and such like - the locals don't seem to mind - it's part of their existence and the people here are undoubtably hardened to the bitterness that the himalayan winters offers - but for us lame westerners it leaves us incredulous in trying to understand why they don't simply close the doors?
Like I say India's a strange place, full of these strange scenarios.
Shimla itself isn't exactly the prettiest city in world, it's more than that - When you arrive here for the first time the thing that strikes you is the array of buildings that seemingly cling to the hillside like limpets - the layered effect of buildings from the top of the precipitous ridge gives the impression of a kind of architechtural waterfall of what appears to be mostly unfinished and incomplete or at the very least under constant revision.
The next thing are the colors of the structures, it's a myriad of colours, albeit somewhat grimy. Then there's the litter, the saddest thing about this place is that the residents deem it OK to hurl their unwanted rubbish out of the windows, which, again, due to the elevation and incline of the hill, creates these small 'waterfalls' of litter that cascade down the hillside. It's a shame but part of India - litter is everwhere - but at least the provincial governments of Himachal Pradesh have followed the example of Kerela and has banned plastic carrier bags... it's a small step in a long up hill struggle to rid the country of the enormous amounts of waste it produces - I'm sure one could write a thesis on how India could tackle such a task.
So, as we sit here in this 'semi-heated' cyber cafe awaiting our train back south we're pondering over the next month - we'll soon be leaving these shores and heading to Singapore in just under a week - and then heading north into malaysia and thailand.
Until the next time.
Namasthe.
x
India's a funny old place. Last week were basking in the sweltering sunshine and now this, the snow and cold of the foothills of the himalayas. You'd have thought the place here would be set up to deal with the almost arctic conditions and I suppose it is - kind of - it's only when you attempt to find shelter from the rain, snow, sleet and wind that you realise that it seems to be more important for cafe/bar owners to keep the doors open, in a way one can only assume, is their attempt of making the place seem more inviting for customers to enter?To a certain extent it's true, the heat coming from each of these establishments is enough to tempt you inside; and once inside the prevailing warmth is enough to tempt you further in and make you sit down and ultimatly order some warming soup or coffee or hot chocolate... it's only you've been sat for a while that you realise that it's not actually that warm in there, relative to the outside it is, but you'd have thought that someone would have the foresight to actually close the doors in a bid to keep the heat IN!? - thus allowing the patrons to remove and dry their wet clothing whilst consuming the sumptous delights on offer.
This simple oversight means that the majority of the establishments we've ventured into are full of people wearing wooly hats, scarves, gloves, heavy cloaks and coats and such like - the locals don't seem to mind - it's part of their existence and the people here are undoubtably hardened to the bitterness that the himalayan winters offers - but for us lame westerners it leaves us incredulous in trying to understand why they don't simply close the doors?
Like I say India's a strange place, full of these strange scenarios.
Shimla itself isn't exactly the prettiest city in world, it's more than that - When you arrive here for the first time the thing that strikes you is the array of buildings that seemingly cling to the hillside like limpets - the layered effect of buildings from the top of the precipitous ridge gives the impression of a kind of architechtural waterfall of what appears to be mostly unfinished and incomplete or at the very least under constant revision.
The next thing are the colors of the structures, it's a myriad of colours, albeit somewhat grimy. Then there's the litter, the saddest thing about this place is that the residents deem it OK to hurl their unwanted rubbish out of the windows, which, again, due to the elevation and incline of the hill, creates these small 'waterfalls' of litter that cascade down the hillside. It's a shame but part of India - litter is everwhere - but at least the provincial governments of Himachal Pradesh have followed the example of Kerela and has banned plastic carrier bags... it's a small step in a long up hill struggle to rid the country of the enormous amounts of waste it produces - I'm sure one could write a thesis on how India could tackle such a task.
So, as we sit here in this 'semi-heated' cyber cafe awaiting our train back south we're pondering over the next month - we'll soon be leaving these shores and heading to Singapore in just under a week - and then heading north into malaysia and thailand.
Until the next time.
Namasthe.
x
Statue of "SHE" - Indirah Ghandi - India's first female prime minster - assasinated in 1984 by her Sikh bodyguards after the tragic events at Amritsar. She's standing benevolently in Shimla, flanked by some locals and indian tourists... Located on a strip of land or ridgeway running across the top of the hill, look north and you see the permanent snow capped peaks of the mighty himalaya and to the south, range upon range of tree topped foothills swirling in and dissappearing into the mist...
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