The Pavarti Valley

To get to this internet cafe I had to wade through a road that was knee deep with freezing water. The Pavarti river burst its banks last night and the main road of our new town, Kasol, is flooded, and to get to any of the shops or eateries you have to get very very wt indeed. I'm feeling pretty negative about travelling today. Since leaving Rishikesh, we have endured the longest and most hair raising journey to date and found ourselves in the PAvarti Valley. When we arrived, it was almost like being in centre parcs, with forested alpine hills surrounding the deep, green valleys and snow capped mountains looming above. Kasol itself is a tiny little town comprised mostly of cafes and little guesthouses, and the atmosphere is so laid back it is almost as if it’s a holiday camp. The day we arrived the novelty of stepping out to a cool breeze and wrapping up warm in jumpers, drinking chai got us excited beyond all reason and with the birds singing in the trees we explored the peaceful town and surrounding woodland. However, the next day the monsoon instantly swept in, to replace everything that was beautiful to begin with with RAIN. I spent all of yesterday in bed with a headache so bad I honestly thought I had a brain heammorage, and when I woke up this morning it felt even worse. All I can do is stare out at the rain and miss all of our amazing friends that we left behind in Rishikesh. It’s amazing the effect illness and rain can have on your mood, because for the first time in weeks, today I just want to go home.

My time in Rishikesh was the happiest I have been in a long time, and it was so so sad to leave it behind. After writing my last blog, we had a few exciting episodes mostly which involved hitchhiking to the next settlement along called Ramjhula, where the gang of us explored, spent whole days in amazing Indian bookshops, got involved with festivals down by the huge Shiva statue by the river…We visited the Beatles Ashram a few times, it was just incredible. The whole place was completely ruined and overgrown by flowers ansd jungle, and countless visitors over the years had grafitti’d the place with Beatles lyrics and psychedelic murals. When it was Myke’s birthday we spent the day and a whole night up there, throwing a party in one of the crazy meditation eggs! We also spent a lot of time chilling in the little ‘Pyramid’ settlement up the hill from the river, which was a health-food restaurant and yoga retreat, where we hung out juggling, drawing and dancing about in Teepees high above the river. By the end of our stay we were so close with all the locals and had become so close as a group, it felt so weird that we were all finally heading off in other directions. T

Theo and Barney were heading south to Mumbai, Rose was heading to Delhi and home, Yvan was going off to Manali for para gliding and Freya and I had decided to visit Kasol on Theo’s recommendation it was the ‘coolest place ever.’ I think his recommendation comes from the viewpoint of someone who loves smoking though, because to me it seems like all there is to do here is smoke and smoke and smoke. As a non-smoker I find I’m just staring at all of these people stoned out of their minds and thinking, ‘aren’t you bored?!’

Freya and I were planning on going our separate way from Myke too after we all had a bit of a fall out in Rishikesh, but on the day that we finally, tearfully hugged everyone goodbye in Freedom Café, we ended up sharing a Vikshram with him and Miles to Haridwar, and the next thing we knew they were on the bus to Kasol as well.

The journey here was 14 hours on an overnight bus. We had a mad rush to Haridwar in the midday sun, only to find that the bus was full and they wouldn’t let us on. So, we had to wait for 5 hours *=(im not even exaggerating) in a fly infested roadside café cum poo filled shed, where we couldn’t even afford to buy food, but had to just sit, staring, smoking, and avoiding the stares of the men all around. Urgh it was just…horrible. Finally the bus arrived in the evening, and once we had squashed ourselves onto it, our crazed driver thundered down the unlit hairpin bends and crumbling landslid roads at breakneck speed the whole way. When it was dark it was impossible to tell how close we were coming to I were clinging on to the seats in front of us like a rollercoaster, and trying not to look at where the barriers had been smashed through on the Cliffside before. We drove all night past endless swamps where the sound of millions of frogs was so loud it sounded like it just wasn’t real. We thundered through alpine forests, higher and higher until finally the sun rose over Himachal Pradesh state (although it looked like we were now in Canada). Then, we wound our way around stunning lakes and crashing rivers, higher and higher along narrower and narrower roads until we were safely (ish) in the Kullu Valley. We changed buses (jumping with our luggage from one roof to another) at Bhunter, a very dusty, very indian town, and the final stretch of (i would hardly call it a) road took us deep into the Parvarti valley, where the tiny traveller town of Kasol nestled above the river. Our guesthouse, Tintin in Tibet, is a cluster of tiny tibetan houses. strewn with hammocks and ganja bushes, overlooking the crashing river and surrounded by steep forested mountains. The whole town of Kasol feels a bit like cente parcs. The temperature is english, the wooded mountains surrounding it are stunning, hazy, capped with snow, and are so sheer it almost looks as if they are totally flat, like a painting. Unlike Centre Parcs however, there are so many Israeli’s here it has been renamed ‘Little Israel’ by the locals, and the amount of Israelis is what constitutes for the sheer amount of cannabis (it accounts for 80% of their crop cultivation apparently). It’s growing everywhere. And even as a non-smoker I found myself giggling with excitement at the novelty of having a hemp field in our front garden.

The difference in atmosphere when we first arrived in this part of India was incredible. Not only is it cooler and more, yes, I suppose, Canadian-looking, but the people have that Nepali look about them. A lot of the people here are tibetan refugees and everyone is so much more friendly. It feels amazing to be up in the Himalayas again, they have such an amazing energy and atmosphere and the same goes for the people too. It was almost as if as soon as we crossed the state border somebody flicked the 'namaste' switch on again, and everyone we saw was suddenly saying hello, women could be seen on the streets and everyone had a smile for us. It’s also a strange feeling to be an ethnic minority again, because there are more Hebrew-speaking people here than there are Hindi and English combined, and I think we may actually be th only Brits in the whole town. Since arriving here, we have been relaxing in hammocks, drinking endless chai, mooching around the shops and generally taking some time to unwind in the temperatures which just remind me incredibly of home. It was such a novelty for us to arrive somewhere where we weren't constantly drenched in sweat, and where having a hot shower was actually nice. We spent the first evening reveling in the cosyness of being able to don a jumper and sit in a sleeping bag. However, now it is raining constantly and i can't believe I’m going to say this, but it’s a tad dreary for my liking.

I really cannot believe I miss hot weather. Well, I suppose it’s not that, it’s that I’m already bored of the endless rain, and the flooding is making it impossible to get anything done. A week ago i would have given anything to stop sweating. But now my trousers and shoes are soaked through from fording the main road which is now a river, my fringe is dripping all over the keyboard and looking outside at the slate grey sky you would never guess this is India. Actually, it reminds me a lot of the lake district here. Perhaps that’s why I'm feeling so homesick.

So currently I am trying to decide what to do with our Itinerary. Freya and I were planning on getting a bus to a village not so far away called Manikaren, which is a Sikh pilgrimage site because of it’s mythical hot springs. We also want to trek to Pulga, another small village that is home to the 'Fairy Forest', supposedly the most amazing forest of all. Now though, I’m not really sure what to do, will the weather put too much of a dampener on it? I'm also starting to feel a bit unsafe in the valley. The roads are practically being washed away and I’m very aware that the only way out is along a particularly dodgy one of them, on a big heavy bus, in the rain. The prospect of landslides and/or getting stuck here for a long time suddenly seems a lot more real. I don't know whether the best option is to get out while we still can or to wait and see if the weather eases off. Also, there is a bit of a phenomenon around here known as the ‘Pavarti Valley disappearances’. Scores of travellers have disappeared from here in the past few years, either because of gangs, drug related accidents or possibly even cults…There are missing posters all over the place, and to that end I think it’s best if I let you know where I am thinking of going from here on. Here is my proposed itinery (subject to change, a LOT of change)

Today, travel to Manikaren with Freya

Tomorrow, from Manikaren travel to Pulga and the FAIRY FOREST.

Spend a night in the fairy forest (possibly camping) and the next day trek back to Manikaren.

Head north, providing the roads aren’t completely washed away.

Spend a few days in Manali if the weather is crap, or if it has improved maybe a bit longer.

Then head to Dharamsala.

A week or so in that area, maybe doing some volunteering and yoga, then a train to Chandigarth.

A couple of days there seeing the sculpture garden, then a train to Rajhistan.

Not sure how much of Rajhistan I will have time to see but I would love to visit Jaipur, Udaipur and the Ranthambore Nature Reserve. Then back to Delhi to fly home.

I cant believe how quickly my time here is flying. It really feels as if the whole thing is coming to an end, even though I still have a month left. It's a shame the rain has put such a dampener on my spirits, but I think I would be feeling this way regardless of the weather. I'm tired of having to pay every time i want to be fed and watered, fed up of not having any of my home comforts, tired of being on the road and always having to pay. Everything I need or want means I have to dish out money and I’m well aware of how little I’ll have when I get back to England. It would be so nice to spend a day doing nothing, for free, helping myself to food from the fridge, to free cups of tea from my kettle, sitting about on my sofa watching T.V and not having to talk to anyone, not having to haggle, not having to travel or pay bills or constantly socialize. I just want to sit in silence! I’m sick of having to talk to people constantly…

But I’m trying to see the positive still. Because I am in India after all, and I will miss it when I’m home. Its just hard to feel optimistic when my feet are numb from wading through water.