Punch Pooper no returns
Trip Start
Jun 29, 2005
1
Trip End
Jun 31, 2005
Mussoorie, India
Friday, July 1, 2005
Bug and I are handed cans of warm beer and the remnants of a bag of masala flavoured chips; we grin at each other and laugh at where we have ended up. If someone had've told us ten years ago that one day we'd be flying through the Indian countryside together in a bus full of skinny armed, Doors-loving, scotch-swilling, gyrating Indians... I don't think we would have believed them. We're not going to get any sleep by the looks of things, so we clank our cans together... and make a toast. To India.
When I first heard that Travelbag were paying for our team to go on a trip to Mussoorie, I got a little over-excited as I thought we were heading for America. I later learnt that Mussoorie is a hill station 6 hours north of Delhi, nestling in the foothills of the Himalayas. Known to the Indians as Queen of the Hills, it sits at an altitude of 2,500 meters above sea level. Here, the screeching of car horns and the dust of Delhi is replaced by the sparkle of the mist floating across rooftops, and the tinkle of bicycle-rickshaw bells. Compared to the sickly-sweet dankness of Delhi, it's like walking into a Jasmine plantation at full bloom.
It isn't long before we are asked for our first photograph. The locals and Indian tourists gawk and gape, ogle and eyeball our white freckly skin. Mothers approach us with their children and ask if we will pose with them. Apparently we are seen as bringing good luck and fortune. We laugh and then decide we should start charging, 50 rupees each or 100 for a photo with all three of us.
Our time in Mussoorie is short lived, we only have one night here then it's back on the bus tomorrow morning. We're staying at the Honeymoon Hotel, where the decor is as tacky as its name. An ornate laced iron railing borders the street below, and the view of the mountains and valleys beyond this is out of the ordinary. We jump in the back of a cycle-rickshaw and peruse the streets, which are lined with market stalls, palmists, and tacky funfair games. Most of the shops are full of junk but it doesn't matter, we didn't come for the shopping. It's just so nice to be here, to be beneath towering trees and to see cows wearing bells around their necks, and monkeys clambering about the place. It begins to rain, and as we glide through the clouds and beneath this canopy of Deodah, the warm mist washes us clean of the grime and dust of Delhi. It's like nothing I've ever experienced before.
We are sad to leave in the morning. We don't have to wait too long before our next trip away though. We plan on spending my birthday on the 30th July in Shimla, another hill station in the northwest Himalayas.
Until then,
Take care & don't forget to send me an email!! Work with me here people!!!
Pen xxx
