John's World...Darjeeling-Hill Station or "Thrill" Station?

You leave the steamy, Bengali, low-land plains and rise higher and higher into the Himalayan Mountains.  The air gets cooler, cloudier.  Your driver winds in and out, up and down.  You go, you stop.  A scene of tea plantations with harvesters holding their bags by their heads comes into view.  Then disappears around the next turn.  You see a Tibetan Buddhist temple wiz by.  After a long journey, you finally see your destination off in the distance.  Thousands of houses of different colors hug the side of the mountain, as if melting or dripping down the side of the peak.  The smell of diesel and incense attracts and repulses you.

Welcome to Darjeeling.

Darjeeling is the sight of the famous hill station for the British looking to escape the heat of the lowland areas.  The namesake of the region is also notorious for being the center of some of the world’s finest teas.  It is also the jumping off point to other parts in the lesser explored northeast section of India.

For us, this trip was a chance to explore the region with Brinda’s uncle’s family.  Sonu and his family (with a giant yellow lab named Snoopy) were delayed in coming up on the same day as we did.  That gave us the day to take the Toy Train (see earlier post).

The next full day together we explored the area.  After a “meaty” breakfast at Keventers we did a little shopping on the pedestrian way.  Afterwards we went to see the Japanese Peace Pagoda.  The pagoda was built as a symbol of world peace by a Japanese Buddhist group.  The grounds are lovingly cared for by a Japanese monastery nearby.

From the pagoda we made our way to the northwest corner of Darjeeling to the ropeway.  The wait was almost two hours.  We declined.  Instead, the boys and I parted ways with everyone else and we headed off to the zoo while Brinda and family went to the Happy Valley Tea Estate for a tasting. 

harvesters

bushes must be at least 50 years old before you can harvest leaves

The Himalayan zoo was small but full of all sorts of fauna native to the region.  Bears, panthers, snow lions, yaks, and of course monkeys were all nicely displayed.  The centerpiece of the zoo was their collection of red pandas.  If you have never heard of a red panda, you may be in for a disappointment.  Red pandas are not really Chinese pandas that happen to be red.  They are, in fact, raccoon looking animals with red fur.  Their faces are, at best, panda-like.  Regardless, they are very rare and very cute.

red panda

Wakanda forever

Following the zoo and tea, we gathered together and made our way for drinks at the Darjeeling Gymkhana Club.  The club had the look of what an old British colonial social club looked like long ago.  Grand staircases, smoking rooms, sporting courts.  From the club, we made our way to our homestay for snacks, drinks, and laughs with family. 

club badminton court

All in all, Darjeeling was a fantastic visit.  It was completely different from the trip to Dharamshala we took over ten years back.  The hill station of Dharamshala was a fraction of the size, had less visitors, and was mostly made up of pedestrian foot traffic.  Decidedly quieter and more peaceful.  It ticked all of the boxes a Westerner thinks of as a hill station.  A true get away.  Darjeeling on the other hand, had worse traffic than even here in Bangalore, smelled more polluted, and had very weird hours of operation (for example restaurants close at 6:30pm).  You walked up, for everything.  Yet, the place grows on you.  The throngs of people around you, pushing their way to get a momo; the idiot, loud father at the Peace Pagoda snapping the 738^th photo in front of the space you need to go; the traffic that makes I-95 in Boston look like the Indianapolis 500.  It shocks you at first.  You take in Darjeeling confused.  Where is the peace and quiet? Where is fresh, clean mountain air? 

crowds of shopper on pedestrian way

main road to Darjeeling or a parking lot

hard working porters carrying goods up and down narrow streets

Breathe deep in spite of the smell of shit and petrol.  Let go.  That’s the trick.  Darjeeling is a thrill, not an escape.  It’s the aforementioned “battle”, just in a different place.  While Darjeeling might not be a getaway, you find yourself regretting to have to “get away”.  You slide through the crowds on the way to your gem of a restaurant.  Your head turns sharply as you peak at that yak wool sweater.  You taste buds tingle at the street food made by Tibetan ladies wafting the coals of their stoves with paper fans for hours on end.  In a way, Darjeeling is a getaway.  Just not in the sense I originally thought.  It’s a new challenge to the senses.  Another puzzle.  Another lesson in letting go and enjoying this Himalayan “thrill” station.