Bird’s Eye View:
Today is our rest day at Joshimath. That is to say, we aren’t going from A to B and staying there. That does not preclude travelling from A to B and returning to A. Which we did.
Leaving Joshimath (9.00 am):
Before these Cartesian cases confuse you, let me revert to our usual start to the blog, saying that the sky was overcast, but some of the peaks were visible. It had rained quite hard at night, and when we woke up, the sky was still leaking. I can use no other word because it was like one drop here, then another drop a foot closer, then somewhere else, like a cloud with a prostrate problem. It was 2-3 degrees colder than yesterday and we had to carefully consider our wardrobe before we stepped out to our destination for the day, which was Auli. We wrapped up, bolted our staple breakfast of alu partha and dahi, and started our day-outing.
Reaching Auli (10.00 am):
Auli is a hill station close to Joshimath, around 14 kms uphill from our GMVN stay. We know Auli just as a hill station, but it dates back to the 8th century when Adi Sankacharya established Joshimath and Auli started developing as a trade and communication hub for semi nomadic tribes like the Bhotiyas, who traded with Tibet riding on their yaks. The Brits developed it as a summer getaway and ski resort, and, in the 20th century, it became a major training ground for Indo-Tibetan Border Police.
That said, we were going there to enjoy nature. We knew there were a lot of treks possible from there, which were not in our bucket list (not even a mug). The Joshimath-Auli ropeway had been stopped after the Joshimath landslide in 2023, when both the city and the countryside had been affected, but there was still a small ropeway running inside Auli. Plus there was an artificial lake.
We targeted the lake on Google maps and started climbing to Auli. The weather was sunny at last, and we enjoyed the dappled tree lined mountain roads that meandered along the mountainside.
Somewhere after 45 mins of drive, a rough-shod road shot off to the right, which a Tempo Traveller was ambling up ponderously. The road was almost as bad as Binsar! We followed docilely till we reached the top and parked in front of a big building with parking… and a mob of very helpful people who turned out to be guides.
They were a bit nonplussed when I asked them, with genuine ignorance, what this place was. Turned out it was (a) GMVN, a govt acco, (b) it was the start of the ski ropeway, (c) it was the start of treks and pony rides to the forest line up above, from where a 360 deg viewpoint could be seen.
Ah, we said, and made a beeline for the 5 min ski lift ride, ignoring all else. Riding with legs dangling, we could see the ski slope below, a curving stretch of smooth green slope, that would turn into a skiing heaven in winter. We could imagine skiers insulated up to their eyebrows, sitting with their gear on these same ski lifts, excited about the next run down. Schloop, schloop, schloop, as Rachel would say in Friends, anticipating skiing at Vail.
As soon as we got down, a similar mob accosted us with their ATVs, ponies and gypsies, trying to convince us that life was not worth living if we did not feed the local economy by successively shuttling between all these modes of transport. One of them even gravely advised others: “Guys, don’t confuse our guests,” then held forth as to why his service was the best. When I said “we will decide later” and walked on to the lake, the cavalcade walked discreetly behind us, furiously arguing amongst themselves, till I told them that I was here with a lady and could they give us some privacy. “Thoda samjha karo!” That got through to them and they smilingly said “achcha achha” and slowly dropped off, like that last bit of honey that refuses to leave the spoon.
The artificial lake was a water basin around fifty meters in diameter, with the mountain sloping off beyond it and another bunch of mountains rising on the opposite side, so close that they literally seemed to be looming, like policemen around a captured pickpocket. The sky was cloudy now, so the lake did not yield the brilliant reflections that would have made for excellent pics.
We also learnt two interesting facts about this lake. One, at 9,800 ft, it was one of the highest artificial lakes, globally. Two, the water from the lake is used in snow-making machines, pumped through snow-guns, to enhance the quality of the ski slopes in winter.
We strolled down the grassy meadows, on which off-duty ponies were grazing, their bells telling their owners that they were around. Simply sitting there with the mountains in front of us, the Nanda Devi peeking out from the clouds now and then, like the child in the house unsure of the unknown guests, listening to the ting-ting of grazing ponies, was simply heavenly. Below us, we could see the army training camps, laid out neatly, their red roofs forming a jolly mosaic. The clouds impaired our peak-hunting, no doubt, but they were beautiful in their own right, white and majestic, lending drama to the blue sky.
Weather changes very fast in the mountains. By noon, a bunch of black clouds had moved in over the mountains at our back and were hovering overhead. The wind picked up, cooler by a few degrees. We felt it unwise to get drenched in the open and made a beeline for the rope-way tower visible in the distance, and reached it, huffing and puffing up the slopes, in ten minutes flat. A quick ride down, and we dived into our Punch, breathing a sigh of relief.
Lunch with celebrities (2.00 pm):
We descended the bad bouncy track to the main Auli road once again and turned right, to see whether there was another way down from Auli to Joshimath. There was not. We soon ran into army training camps that allowed no thoroughfare, and we had to turn back. But in the process, we discovered a gem of a hotel, the Mountain Rover, with cottages, rooms and an excellent restaurant with a superb view of the mountain ranges. The partners were a lady from Mumbai and the local ski instructor in the Himalayan Ski Institute. We had a pizza and a pasta, both well-made, an enthusiastic recall to a cuisine that we had all but forgotten.
We had noticed a young Bengali couple when we were climbing up to the restaurant, whose acquaintance we made later on. Sharly and Abhishek, both actors in the serial “Phulki” running on Zee Bangla, and who had recently tied the knot. A two-day escapade in the midst of their shooting was by way of celebration. Very sweet people, and we wished them success in their careers.
Back to Joshimath (3.00 pm):
The sky remained threatening all through, with spots of rain. We entered town at an upstream point of the one-way direction and found our way back to GMVN Jyotir, like off-season salmon who go with the flow. Our rooms had been shifted upstairs in the interim, and, after a snooze, we enjoyed sitting in the balcony, sipping hot chocolate and coffee, till the chill drove us back inside.
Joshimath is famous for spiritual visits (full of temples), whereas Auli is more for secluded nature-lovers. By nature, we should have stayed at Auli, but even the day’s visit was pretty fulfilling.
Tomorrow, we plan to make a day trip to Badrinath. The catch is that it is the first day of opening this season, and usually one lakh visitors flock there for the darshan on the first day. We are quite willing to avoid the long darshan lines, especially in temperatures that are predicted to be 0-5 degC and genuflect from afar. Let us see.
Photo credits: Panna Rashmi Ray
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