Adventures in the hills - PART 1

I had been visiting my dear friend Katie in Dehradun and we had spent some wonderful days catching up on each other's lives, working our way down a stack of movies, baking cookies and patronising Baskin Robins. Halfway through my holiday we decided to head for cooler pastures and boarded a bus for the hour long trip to Mussorie. Once there, we only stopped long enough to gobble up some delicious momos before taking a taxi up the winding roads to Landour. The weather was pleasantly cool and it wasn't as crowded as Mussourie and Dehradun had been.
After depositing our bags at the tiny hotel, Katie and I huffed up a steep climb to the top of the mountain that is Landour, and after a short break to catch our breath we sauntered along the '8 chakkar' a trail that encircles the mountain top in the figure eight. As we walked we sang our favorite songs, some new to me, some new to her and some beloved to both. We met some of the natives who lived in the villages in the valley, and trek uphill everyday in search of work and to sell the milk that their cattle produce, these men carried these cans of milk in bags that looked like large-holed nets, the more fortunate ones letting their donkeys lift that burden, the others bent under the weight themselves. The view offered was beautiful, pine tree grew thickly in the surrounding area and we even caught a glimpse of the distant himalayan snow caps.
It had been getting a bit chilly by the end of our walk and so we decided to nip down and dress warmer. However we did not 'nip' back, I at least 'puffed' my way up in time to capture a glorious sunset on reel (or is that memory card now, in these digitised days)
Then we relaxed at a tiny cyber cafe that doubled up as an eaterie, and had hot spring rolls for dinner while Katie finished some work on her laptop and I copied some poems that I wanted. Our walk downhill was made eventful by the discovery of a huge black scorpion that had planted itself in the middle of the road as though daring someone to run over it. We nearly stepped on it! The rest of the way I treaded trepidly. And though I kept an eye on the road, the beauty of the moonlight threading its way through the dark trees was not lost on me.
After two movies, we had snuggled under the warm quilts, against the night that had grown surprisingly cold in a few hours. In the wee hours of the morning I was awakened by a noise that resembled an exuberant tapdancer practing his art on our roof, instead as I peeked out of the door I found the ground covered in white and hailstones still falling thickly.
Oh it was lovely to go back to that still warm bed and listen to the staccato rhythm the hailstones made on the tin roof as I fell into the arms of sleep.
Next morning, after a breakfast of banana bread, oranges and tea and some Bible time, we went out for another walk around town, we checked out the new up-to-date hospital, stopped at the Tibetan shop and left a note for the friend who owns it, walked by Ruskin Bond's home and got a picture there too. All that walking made us hungry and we made a pit stop at a tiny restaurant called 'Chhaya', that served a lovely chicken salad along with some oven fresh rolls with the cheese still oozing out of them.
Mussourie seemed to be the home of many shaggy haired, adorable mutts and most of them were incredibly friendly. On our walk about town, the whole day through, the dog lover in me had been treated to the sight bushy tails wagging in welcome and sloppy pink tongued 'smiles'. As we made our way through one particular tiny street, we saw a beautiful dog, glowing white and sitting majestically near the doorstep of the house he belonged to. I itched to get a picture of the darling thing. No sooner had I focussed and zoomed in on him, when he became aware of us peeping over the wall. He rushed at us, barking ferociously, his teeth bared – he was a fearsome sight to behold! What a contrast to the calm, stately, benign stature he had assumed just a moment ago, now I could have sworn he was possessed! Boy, was I glad to have that solid wall between us.
Flowers, that seemed to sprout out in the most unlikely places (walls, cracks in the road, thatched roofs - to name a few), grew in abundance in these hills, and their photos were also added to the steadily decreasing storage space, on my camera's memory card.
That evening we met up with Danielle (Katie's roommate) and left Mussorie for a little village higher up in the hills called Sainji.

For pictures check out my facebook profile http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=133356&id=512350627