Bird’s eye view:
What a journey we had today! Just 135 km of mountain driving, but one which took us through safe two-lanes, risky single-tracks, tailgating Boleros, log-jammed towns, feisty waterfalls, sulfur hot-springs - all taken in stride with never a falter by our trusted Punch. We really lost track of time. Having left at 7.15 am, we reached our destination only at 3.15 pm, timings which seem to be becoming our benchmarks.
Our route today would take us eastward to Askote town, where we will cross a cute river called Goriganga, and follow it northward to Madkote town, where we will cross back and start climbing for the last 20 kms to Munsiyari.
Leaving Pithoragarh (7.15 am):
Our hotel had just about opened her eyes after the wedding last night, that we demanded that we needed to leave, without breakfast, as usual. After packing the Punch, we rolled out gently into a traffic that was chock-a-block with school buses (read Boleros loaded with kids with school bags spilling from the roof racks). In fact, we had to wait patiently near a school for ten minutes while the necessary unloadings took place.
As we drove through to the other end, we realised that Pithoragarh was quite a big town (pop 0.5 mil), engaging us for about half an hour to drive across. It seems to be quite an important trading hub for the region, and, if you take a look at the map, you might conclude that the proximity of the Nepal border might be a valid reason.
Till Askote, the road was a two-lane one, and it was a smooth ride. Professional drivers here, particularly the yellow plated Dezires and Boleros, are fast no doubt, being able to hold a speed of 50-60 kmph, whereas I could comfortably hold about 40. However, they still follow the hill protocols of giving way to uphill traffic and showing immense patience during traffic jams. And a WB number plate sometimes attracted consideration, we being poor out-of-town plains-men who needed protection and guidance.
We had planned to stop for some breakfast at Askote, it being 9.30 am, but we ran out of the town so fast that finally we just parked our car by the roadside and consumed buns with cheese and chanachur sandwiched in between. Anything goes when the surroundings are green.
Hot springs at Sera (11.30 am):
Beyond Askote, as we turned left after the bridge, it became a single lane road, which required diligent honking before every blind turn. The local drivers are not given to such niceties and tend to swing around unannounced. Some stretches were definitely single-car width, with the Goriganga gurgling away a hundred feet below on the left, and we had to park a prudent distance away if we heard sounds of another car coming.
This was a road for waterfalls. There was one at Sera itself, before the hot springs point came up, and another later on, both flowing down the cliffs on the other side of the river.
At Sera, as we parked in front of a tea shop and walked down to the springs, we also met our goal of dipping our feet in the Goriganga, a fast-flowing noisy, pastel green, narrow river, with a pebbly and rocky surrounding, whose water turned out to be ice-cold (Panna could not keep her feet in for more than 10 secs). The river originates in the Milam glacier next to Nanda Devi, so no wonder.
At Sera, there is a hot spring which flows down, warm to the touch and smelling of sulphur, finally disappearing into the river. The government had once made a structure for body-dipping and feet-washing (sulphur springs are said to have medicinal use), but the whole apparatus had fallen into disrepair. The streams now flow freely, turning vegetation green and the black sand orange in its path.
Shower waterfall (1.00 pm):
Sometime before reaching Madkote, we suddenly came across a waterfall arcing over the road and falling into the river below. One could drive through it without getting wet, technically, but the vagrant breezes did their bit to soak rubberneckers as they walked backward from the torrent, their cameras stuck to their faces. There was nobody there except us, and “owning” the phenomenon for a while in eternity gave a special bond with it.
Lunch at Madkote (1.30 pm):
We did not make the mistake of Askote, but parked our car in a niche at the very heart of the town thoroughfare and scooted into a restaurant the size of a small roadside saloon for lunch. I was happy with a veg thali of rice, daal and cauliflower curry, while Panna opted for mutton momo, which, she confided, was too rudimentary even to act as an apéritif. I generously shared some rice and daal with her.
Reaching Munsiyari (3.15 pm):
We had left Pithoragarh, which was pleasantly cool, with woollens at the ready, to start donning them as soon as temperature started to drop. After all, we were going to Munsiyari. However, as long as we travelled along the river, which was practically 80% of the way, we were turning the AC on wherever there was no steep climb involved. As we did the last 20 kms of hairpins to Munsiyari, which was at 10,000 ft, temperature dropped, no doubt, but only to a pleasantness of 22 degC. As I write at 9.00 pm, it is 15 degC, and might drop to 8 degC in the early mornings. Not killing cold, just chilling.
We had booked our stay at KMVN Munsiyari for 3 nights, this being the place supposedly with the best view of the Panchachula peaks. There were two snags. One, KMVN was pretty run down. And, more importantly, Panchachula, having had no advance notice of our arrival, had pulled a blanket of clouds over its cold peaks and gone to sleep. Maybe we will have better luck in the next two days.
Food was good here. After an afternoon snack of room-made jhaal-muri, and a nap, we finished the day with chicken stew (Panna) and roti with mixed veg and eggs (I).
Tomorrow and day after, we stay put at Munsiyari, giving a break to my tired driving muscles.
Photo credits: Panna Rashmi Ray
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