Childhood Travel To Leh & Ladakh | Chaturyatri-travel Stories On Budget Travel In India
How sad and bad and mad it was but then, how it was sweet ~ Robert Browning
Indeed it was the best of times and but not the worst of times. We had everything with us and indeed nothing remains today of those gleeful innocuous childhood days. Burden of growing years and responsible living has insidiously replaced those carefree hours of unadulterated fun. Pretty much in tune to this change our travel lore and travel practises too have changed over the years. But, what remains intact is the fondness for those lived days and nostalgia. So no matter how glorious a trip we make eventually, no matter how exotic location we make our foray into, one or the other of those childhood trips remain indelible. Those trips where no logistical or practical issues interfered with the pure delight, those trips where our parents became as much a child as ourselves, those trips that made memories to be cherished forever. No wonder they say old is gold. I have had a lucky childhood when it came to donning the travellers shoes. My parents, especially my mother, suffering from an incorrigible wanderlust would let no vacation go waste and drag us to one captivating tourist location after the other.
Among myriads of these touristic enterprises, perhaps the most special experience that my juvenile mind recorded years ago, the most memorable remains our trip to Leh Ldakh. It was back in 2003, not very long after the controversial, trouble ridden yet breathtakingly picturesque terrains of Kashmir were opened up to the tourist, my mother impetuously planned a fortnight long trip to the moonland on earth, Ladakh. Spread over a sprawling stretch of sand ensconced in blue mountain ranges, Ladakh is indeed a slice of paradise on the surface of the earth. That was during our summer vacations that along with my mother and brother, I set off away from the heat of Kolkata to the chill of Ladakh. My father had to stay back due to work commitments . Initially, I wasnt one bit excited about the trip, having been the perennial Daddys-Girl. But when along with the 12 other passengers, we took off on the Kalka Mail, I realized that this would be an unforgettable destination. After a tedious yet fun-filled two day long train journey, we reached the lush and spectacular Himachal Pradesh.
We embarked on our Ladakh safari that very day, crossing the Rohtang Pass, Tanglang Pass and the Khardungla Pass we glided along the gyrating mountain roads to reach the capital of Ladakh, Leh. The barren crags and untempered beauty of the place was simply mesmerizing. We were so full of the scenic beauty and grandeur of nature in Leh, that the biting cold temperature or the exhaustion of the journey conveniently took a backseat. Having been an important trade centre in the India-China trade routes, Leh has always been of touristic interest for many across the world. We had lodged in one of the vintage decorated, quaint hotel. Despite being located in such a remote area, the hotel had all the basic amenities that any regular deluxe resort claims. We were ecstatic. Now, with the stay accomplished,our focus turned to the exploration of the local spoils of Leh. Our first stop was the Sindhu banks. It was an enclave constructed on the banks of river Indus and the luxuriant blue of the river brushing against the bright red of the banks made for an eyeful collage. My brother and I, sat al the time sailing paper boats registering little of the history or the place as given by our guide. The next day we took a trip to the Leh palace. It was indeed an enigmatic and intriguing episode.
Lying abandoned for many years now, this palace is reduced to ruins. But, its architectural excellence and the millions unsung songs, continue to attract various tourists all across the world. We also visited the hereditary Shanti stupa, Hemis Ghompha, the Stok Palace and the Zorawar fort. The mountainous backdrop and the bright blue sky, the cool serenading breeze and the brilliant architecture made Leh, indeed a mystic locale almost.
If the trip was fun, the count backward to Kolkata was funnier. On our last day, we had the original Kashmiri biriyani before heaving adieu to Leh. During the train journey we engaged as miscreants and their accomplices. From stealing tetra packs of drinks to dealing with the beggars, from playing antakshiri to reinless gossip. Train journey was then the perfect journey of the childhood.
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