Nubra

Once you’re here, you have to be here everywhere. And this is why, as I’ve mentioned before, five of the Ladakh area sympathizers decided to share a private car and go over the (supposedly) highest motorable pass in the world and take a look at the valley beyond. The Nubra valley, as it is called, is of rare beauty, quite austere, some might say, because it only has sandy grey and brown toned plains with little vegetation and imposing mountains on all sides but the Pakistani side, which obviously has those annoying people, of which Indians are not really fond of. Well, most Indians because Ladakhis don’t seem to have much to say on the matter.

The five of them decided they would get the ridiculously expensive inner permit in Leh (if prepared, one can get it in Delhi for free), go see the Nubra valley and then sneak a peek at Pangong Tso, a beautiful salt water lake at the Chinese border. As four of the five members of this massive expedition were staying at the same guesthouse, they agreed to meet in front of said guesthouse at a reasonable 10 AM. But, after intense banging at and shouting and pleading through the adamant, indifferent door of the special Russian, the expedition decreased to only four members (more comfortably seated nonetheless) and the driver.

Mahindra is one of the largest automobile manufacturer in India. This particular model can easily seat seven people (driver included, although driving on the wrong side of the road), but the five characters spread evenly throughout the car, the driver (Tsering) on his designated seat, the will-be-car-sick-if-not-seated-in-front German lady on the front seat, the taciturn (because of technical reasons – read: lack of English speaking skills) Russian behind the driver, the nice Romanian (ahem) next to him and the other Russian way in the back, needing to continuously bother the nice Romanian to get in and out of the car. Also getting a comfy seat between the Russian and the Romanian was the nice Romanian’s backpack, because she realized that, at minus something degrees, as it may be when confronted with lots of snow and ice, many packed items (like plastic toothbrushes and even laptops) may freeze, so it’s better to have them placed somewhere with heating, which the car company solemnly (and accurately) promised.

And off they went, on a completely traffic-less and curve-full road, higher and higher to about 5000 meters; where they stopped. And it took about 10 minutes to uncover why: Khardung La; the highest pass; 5603 meter high. Not open because of repairs; repairs because of landslides; landslides because of bad weather; bad weather because of wrong season. And they were told: it’s going to take some hours to start again; some excruciating hours, because of the altitude (that they were not told). Several cars – there were more already waiting by the time this particular German-Russian-Romanian expedition arrived – turned around, only to try again the next day. But they waited, going through never before experienced physical changes, like headache, sleepiness and a particular sluggishness of all functions. It was a tragedy, more agonizing than summiting the nearby Everest, but our heroes prevailed and, after 3 hours, were able to continue with their quest. They stopped on the highest point, partly because the members wanted to shuffle around, partly because the driver unsuccessfully tried (again) to fix the snow chains on the wheels of the car.

And, after colliding with just one lorry on the way down – only a minor headlight less, the Mahindra expedition carried on, drove off and down and finally, after some 2000 meters downwards, the members regained their mental faculties and their normal bodily functions. Some 90 km later, they reached their proposed destination, the village of Diskit, where the brothers cheerfully shared a room and the women, congealingly, another.

The next day only brought more adventures for our main characters, as they visited the hot springs in Panamik, basically a concrete basin in which local women wash clothes and funny foreigners immerse themselves only to resurface lobster-red and pleased with the experience of bathing at minimum 45^o C.

They then expressed their wish to see the Diskit monastery religious ceremony, where they discovered that they had been misinformed and the ceremony for the day had already taken place. The next day would bring more Buddhist ceremonials, whose exact time they scrupulously committed to memory. As entertainment is scarce in a city where the lights literally go out at about 7.30, our heroes retired early and complained about the cold. They received a complementary candle, maybe for lighting their way, maybe for warming themselves up, but the official reasons remain unknown. We’re only referring to the women’s journey; the men’s remains a mystery. We only know that there is some morning yoga going on…

Getting up in the morning right underneath the Karakorum Mountain Range was exhilarating for our team, so they acquired fresh energy to participate in the gompa ceremony, which offered great new information about Buddhist life: the whole valley gathered for this specific ceremony, which they quietly watched on the monastery premises, looking at masked men, demons and other protagonists hopping and dancing to the sounds of traditional instruments played by monks right under their sunburned noses. Three hours passed and our lead characters delightedly watched the ceremony, enchanted and captivated beyond all words.

Only when the ceremony was over did they return to earth and decided they should see the desert; and the camels. Some of the members decided to ride the camels, the talkative Russian walked beside them and the nice Romanian only took pictures and, for reasons known not even to her, she decided not to ride a camel. Which she surely regrets, because look how cute they are:

And then they went to Turtuk; but they never got to Pangong Tso.