Road Trip to Rohtang: Maggi, Tea, and a Lifetime of Memories

"A pile of corpses...really?" That was my first reaction when someone told me what Rohtang Pass literally meant. Had I known this before we embarked on that arduous drive, I would have thought twice before proceeding.

Part of the Pir Panjal mountain range in the Himalayas, this treacherous stretch between Manali and Leh is aptly named. Trucks falling into deep gorges, cars veering off the slippery sleet, or landslides brought on by the sudden change in weather, there are quite a few options to choose from, if an early retirement from life is on your mind. Yet, the sheer beauty of this place, the little streams that appear unexpectedly as you drive along, and adrenaline rush that's part of this memorable experience, attracts scores of tourists every year.

After the 'heart-in-my-mouth' journey from Delhi to Manali, I hoped that the nearly 18 hour, hair-rising bus drive, with someone's nauseous 'mummyji' throwing-up endlessly, was worth it. When I held snow for the first time in my life, I can say it certainly was worth all the trouble.

My husband and I hired a Toyota Qualis for our trip to Rohtang Pass. Our driver, a jovial man of nearly 50, chatted animatedly as we enjoyed the start of the 51 kilometer drive. En-route we stopped to rent the waterproof jumpsuits and gloves that are a must if you want to use your limbs again. The weather was lovely, the skies clear, and the day just seemed great. Thirty minutes later, it was a different story. As soon as we crossed the bridge over the Beas river, I had my eyes tightly shut, because I couldn't bear to look outside. To make things worse, one mistake meant falling right into a gorge that looked dark, forbidding, and endless.

"At least the visibility is good," I thought to myself. Those who frequent the mountains often say that the weather can change in seconds. That's exactly what happened. Fog started to descend gradually, enveloping us in its lethal embrace. Our highly skilled driver (still chatting away) expertly manoeuvred the Quails over rocks and slush, not once taking his eyes off the road.

To cut a long story short, we nearly made it in one piece. But the journey wasn't over yet. We hopped off from the vehicle, and hopped on to the ponies that were to take us to the highest point. The weather was flirting with us again. The fog, which had cleared, was back. To ensure everyone stayed together, the guide tied the ponies one behind another and gave the first one a pat on its rump. Off it went, trotting with the sure-footed grip of a mountain goat, while the others followed at a steady pace. The fact that I couldn't see a thing wasn't as worrying as being tilted at a 45 degree angle sometimes when the animal needed to negotiate narrow, sloping curves. I was both petrified and excited at the same time.

Although I've heard and read so much of the beauty of this place, nothing can do justice to the actual experience. It was simply breathtaking! The white and grey snow-capped mountains, the biting cold weather, and the majesty of the Himalayas can make you feel like a tiny, insignificant speck.

The altitude and the excitement had certainly given me an appetite. What's amazing is that, despite the perilous weather and road conditions, you actually have vendors selling hot, extraordinarily sweet tea, and Maggi noodles. Normally, I'd turn my nose at Maggi noodles, or not take more than half a teaspoon of sugar in my tea, but 'normal' is overrated. When I close my eyes, I can still smell the aroma of noodles wafting towards me as I stood salivating at the prospect of sinking my teeth into a hot bowlful. The steaming glass of tea, with enough sugar to send me bouncing off the rocks, was like a warm blanket on a rainy day.

Manali has a lot to offer apart from Rohtang Pass.There's the great food,the Hadimba Devi temple , and Pandoh Dam, among other places. For me, however, the highlight of my trip was the drive and visit to Rohtang Pass.

I strongly believe that there are some vacations that simply fill up the photo album, and some that make memories. For those of you who haven't been to Rohtang, I'd say "go on, make some memories!"

The Where, When, What, and How:

Where to Stay: Manali has plenty of budget as well as luxury hotels. You can choose depending on how much you want to lighten your pocket. Check out TripAdvisor for more.

When to Go: Tourists are allowed to visit from June to October. It remains closed during the rest of the year, owing to the heavy snowfall and blizzards.

What to Do: Although tourism websites advertise adventure sports like skiing and snow-mobiles, here's a tip – The skiing is rudimentary and the snow-mobiles are fun as long as you don't mow down a tourist.

How to Get There: The simplest route is from Delhi to Manali via road. But, don't expect the buses to be on time. On reaching Manali, you can hire a local taxi that will take you to Rohtang Pass.

When the Jungles Come Alive

Have you ever watched a hunt in progress? When the predator patiently stalks its prey, crouches low, until the final spring that usually spells certain death for the hunted? If you have, then you must consider yourself among the lucky few. As for me, I haven't had the fortune of watching a tiger or its smaller cousin, the leopard, in action. Although I have witnessed a dhole (commonly referred to as the Asiatic Wild Dog) feeding on fresh kill.

Native to South and South East Asia, this unique species of carnivore are often dismissed and trivialized as “only wild dogs” when discussing some of the fiercest creatures that walk the jungles today. I beg to differ. If you have watched one of them tearing away at a deer's throat, you'll most certainly agree with me. Highly social, dholes usually hunt in large packs, killing their prey very painfully by disembowelling them and biting off huge chunks, even while poor animal is alive. They don't even spare the mighty tiger when confronted, although most choose to stay away from tigers, unless they're in packs of 20 and see no choice but to bring the tiger down.

The one we encountered while on a safari in Biligiriranga Hills or B R Hills had slunk away from its pack. Slightly bigger than the average city mongrel, this wild dog had something large in its jaws, and was having considerable trouble dragging the dead animal, which appeared to twitch from time to time. We stopped our jeep and waited in complete silence, until it came into full view. Like most wild animals, I expected this one to turn tail and disappear into the forest as soon as it saw humans. This dhole did anything but run. It stood still and stared at us for a few seconds before deciding to begin its meal right there!

We watched in fascination as it hungrily tore away at the young spotted deer's throat, before proceeding to rip off large chunks from its flank. I'd never seen anything quite like this, except for the deer carcass I once saw abandoned by a large jungle cat in Bandipur. You can usually smell it before you see it. Anyway, coming back to our lone dhole, after about 10 minutes, it decided it had had enough of the audience, and proceed to enjoy what was left of his meal in peace. Dragging the remains, it melted into the forest, even as our cameras silently clicked away.

Supremely satisfied with the fruitful morning safari, I decided to get some shut eye after breakfast, considering there wasn't much to do until half past three. Later in the evening, after gulping down steaming cups of tea, my husband and I hopped onto the safari jeep that was waiting for us. In the second jeep, that was to follow us at a distance, were a group of rather noisy, brightly dressed boys and girls.

The jeeps rumbled on. Stopping at regular intervals, the bored driver waited patiently as the cameras went into overdrive. Spotted deer, sambar, and beautiful birds in various shapes, sizes and colors, the jungle was full of them. But the best was yet to come. Before I tell you what that is, it's important that I explain the topography of this forest, especially the core area. Located at an altitude of 5,091 feet, the B R Hills Wildlife Sanctuary comprises of dense, lush green forests. On one side of the jungle path is the forest, while on the other is a sloping drop. Our jeep traversed slowly along the narrow jungle path.

All at once, a 'swish' sound brought us to an abrupt halt. At first I couldn't see anything, just the trees and shrubs swaying gently in the wind. Suddenly a shrill trumpet startled all of us, and before we could react, a large female elephant came rushing towards the driver's side. Her trunk was raised, her tail high up in the air, and she certainly looked like she meant business. Then the driver, also our guide, did something that truly worried me; he turned off the engine. My mouth agape, I stared at him in shock!

He turned around and motioned us to stay silent. My throat was dry and my voice had long abandoned me anyway. So screaming was out of the question. We were as still as a rock.

Meanwhile, the elephant in question had retreated a few feet, before she repeated the same thing. As she rushed towards us once more, kicking up a cloud of dust, I caught a glimpse of her calf standing a few feet away. Protected by another female, the poor calf looked absolutely petrified. It made sense now; she was worried for her baby. Her mock charge meant she was gauging the level of threat that we posed, and by not reacting or moving, we wanted to show that we meant no harm. This back and forth mock charge lasted for almost 10 minutes, during which my husband continued taking pictures. As for me, I was absolutely terrified, considering the elephant sometimes came within touching distance of the jeep.

All the while, the folks in the second vehicle watched us from a safe distance. The young mother finally disappeared behind the trees, and our jeep started to move. Heaving a sigh of relief I turned to look back at the other jeep. It was not over yet. The angry pachyderm emerged from behind the cover of the trees and proceed to display the same behavior, trumpeting shrilly and rushing towards jeep #2. Unfortunately, one of the women, dressed in bright yellow, started to scream bloody murder the moment she spied the elephant. That did it. No more mock charges...it was time for the real thing. Trunk down, ears flapping wildly, the angry animal rushed in mad fury towards the jeep. The hysterical girl was now sobbing loudly, and there was nothing we could do.

The driver in their jeep, displaying great presence of mind, realized that one nudge and their vehicle would go toppling down the slope. Stepping on the pedal, he drove as fast as the rocky terrain would allow. It was a sight to behold. Our jeep in front, the other jeep following us, and one temperamental beast giving a hot chase! The madness lasted for around 15 minutes, before our pursuer decided it had had enough. We managed to reach our resort without further incident. The lady of course, was shaking like a leaf!

As for us, well, we couldn't wait to go again. Who knows what it might be this time? A predator concealed in the shadows? Langur monkeys hanging from tall trees, ever alert for tigers and leopards? Perhaps a herd of elephants if we got lucky? With the jungles, one can never tell!

The Where, When, What, and How:

Where to Stay: Although there are plenty of options in Chamrajanagar, none of these allow safaris, except for the ones offered by the government, which are a waste of time. If a jeep safari is on your mind, then the only option you have is Jungle Lodges and Resorts. A word of caution though, Jungle Lodges is going to burn a large hole in your pocket! Go only if you're okay with mediocre food, but awesome safari, for the exorbitant price.

When to Go: The sanctuary is open throughout the year, although the monsoon season is best avoided. Try planning a visit between October and May.

What to Do: Safari, safari and more safari! You can also try visiting the Biligiri Ranganathaswamy Temple, which is believed to be over 200 years old.

How to Get There: You can either take the Bangalore – Kankapura – Malavalli - Kollegal – Yelendur- B R Hills route, or try the Bangalore – Mysore – Chamrajanagar - B R Hills stretch. Watch out for wildlife en-route, especially lone tuskers and elephant herds. Distance varies between 181- 200 kilometers depending on the route you take.

Access'd Ooty

When she came into our lives sometime in the middle of 2010, we had no idea we'd take her on her first vacation so soon. But it just seemed so wrong to leave her behind, all alone, waiting for us to come home. So we took her along, on what turned out to be one of our most memorable trips so far.

I don't suppose you know what I'm talking about. It is our very own, 125 cc, stylish, Suzuki Access. Boasting a 4-stroke engine, and looking resplendent in black, the dealership fella called it the “perfect scooter for city use”. Little did he know that we had other plans for her!

A misty Saturday morning sometime in January 2011, my husband and I found ourselves heading to Ooty. Considering we'd not been married for long, money was a little tight, so this was going to be an overnight trip. A small backpack with a change of clothes and some water, that's pretty much all we needed. I'm going to leave out the mundane details of the Bangalore to Mysore stretch. The heavy traffic, suicidal cows jumping in the middle of the highway at regular intervals, and the innumerable coffee-houses, always make me feel like I've never left the city.

The awfully dull Mysore highway behind us, we crossed Gundlupet without incident. This, I believe, was when the real fun started. Considering we were now officially in the Bandipur Tiger Reserve limits, I really wonder how this narrative would have panned out if we'd had a flat. But we had other things to worry about, such as the forest officer at the Karnataka- Tamil Nadu check-post. He stopped us and stared suspiciously before asking me to take off my helmet.

"Madam, is he forcing you into this lunacy?" he enquired.

I was amused, at the same time touched by his concern. I told him I was fine and a willing participant to what he clearly thought was madness.

"Sir, why are you taking your wife to Ooty on a scooter? There are plenty of buses and cabs. This isn't even a powerful motorcycle!" he exclaimed.

It took some convincing before he bid us adieu, still shaking his head and muttering as we resumed our journey.

Nestled in the foothills of the Nilgiris and melting into the Wayanad Wildlife Sanctuary on one side and the Nagarhole National Park on the other, these jungles are part of the Nilgiri Bio Reserve. Despite efforts to prevent poaching and protect what remains today of the fauna, I fear that the generation after us will not enjoy the beauty of these beautiful, but rapidly depleting, forests of South India. At the risk of digressing, let me add that Bandipur was once a private hunting reserve for the Maharaja of Mysore, before it was established as a tiger reserve in 1974.

Back to where we were, it was just beyond the 'Safari point' in Bandipur when we came across the first herd of elephants. Elephants, when in a herd, are almost always peaceful and don't molest human beings. It is the lone tusker, especially one in the state of Musth, that you should worry about. Those fellows are best left to themselves. Anyway, coming back to our pachyderm family. They regarded us with mild curiosity and continued munching on the succulent bamboo that grows aplenty in these jungles. I imagined one of the little ones even went “slurp” before licking his lips with satisfaction!

The herd let us pass.

The next challenge came when we reached the 'safari point' at Mudumalai. Here we had the option of either continuing straight towards Masinagudi and taking the Kalhatti road, or turning right towards Gudlur. The Gudlur road is, undoubtedly, the most scenic, with the Moyar river serenely flowing on one side, while Kalhatti (which literally means 'steep ghat') comprises of 36 hairpin bends. Although I had immense faith on our Access, let's face it, negotiating 36 hairpin bends on a scooter is like trying to thread a needle with a rope! The engine would most certainly seize. So the obvious choice, and a wise one, was the Gudlur road. The extra two hours that we took to reach Ooty from the safari point made us realize how sturdy our 'city' scooter was. Pushed to its limit, sometimes by the wide craters on what must have once resembled a road, and sometimes by the buses and larger cars that simply whizzed past with little regard for our humble steed, she was one resilient workhorse.

As for us, well, I'd be lying if I said that we felt like James Bond who somehow managed to get out of diciest situations without a hair out of place. When we reached our destination, an old British Bunglow converted to a B&B, all we wanted was a hot bath, a steaming cup of tea and a warm bed. Before that, however, we had a very curious hotel manager to convince that we'd actually covered nearly 300 kilometers on a Suzuki Access. "Saar, where did you rent this in Ooty?" he enquired, without checking the Karnataka registration.

"It belongs to us," my husband replied.

The flummoxed chap walked out, peered at the registration number and then looked at our exhausted faces.

The "why" was written all over his face. But he restrained himself and showed us to our room.

I can't even begin to describe how tired we were. Our backs ached, our muscles were sore and despite the helmets, dirt covered our faces. But for all it's worth, I know we'll do it all over again.

The Where, When, What, and How:

Where to Stay: Plenty of options available, depending on your budget. You could either try Kings Cliff if your purse strings aren't too tight, or the likes of Woodberry resorts or I-India if a budget vacation is on your mind.

When to Go: Whenever your heart desires. Ooty is one of those round-the-year destinations. That said, April to June or September to November are considered to be the best times to visit.

What to Do: I'd give the botanical garden and the lake a pass; they're too touristy and crowded for me. Long walks along the winding roads and the train ride to Coonoor should be in your 'to-do' list.

How to Get There: If you're in a car or on a motorcycle, you could either take the Bangalore- Mysore- Gundlupet - Bandipur- Gudlur- Ooty route or the Bangalore- Mysore- Gundlupet - Bandipur- Masinagudi-Kalhatti- Ooty road. Amateur drivers and scooterists are better off taking the Gudlur Road.

The River Rafting Misadventure

It was a day I'll never forget; water gushing from all sides, threatening to take us along with it, while we stood there helplessly for nearly two hours. It was one of those moments in life when one thinks, “these things happen to someone else”. Only this time, that “someone one else” was me and the six other people in the raft.

How did we get into such a predicament?

Well, the monsoons were in full swing in South India when my husband and I decided to head to Coorg for a short vacation. It was supposed to be a typical road trip, relaxing, lazy and away from our usual routine. Now when I look back, relaxing may not be the most appropriate word to describe it. Let me fast-forward to day two, when we drove down to the Barapole river from Kutta town in Coorg where we were staying.

We'd heard to much about white water rafting and weren't going to miss the chance to try it. For those of you who haven’t heard of it, Barapole is a turbulent river that winds along the beautiful jungles of the Bramhagiri Wild Life Sanctuary before joining the Arabian sea. With more than Class 2 and Class 4 rapids, it's the adrenaline-junkie's wet dream and the aquaphobic's worst nightmare. This is because these rapids offer the most challenging rafting opportunity along the 4 kilometer stretch, which ideally lasts for an approximate two hours.

Helmets and lifejackets on, it was time to paddle away. The river, brimming with the recent rains, beckoned us as we followed the instructor's commands to “row forward” and “row backwards”. As part of the training, before we hit the rapids, we were required to jump overboard in order to familiarize ourselves with the water, and understand how to stay float with the lifejackets on. Despite being an average swimmer, I needed several minutes of persuasion and coaxing before I jumped in. The cold, dark water hit me hard. My breathing started to tighten because my first reaction was panic. Around me I saw that the everyone else was calmly floating and enjoying themselves, and I immediately felt ashamed. These people couldn't even swim! The moment of panic passed and we hopped aboard again and set off towards the real challenge – the rapids. One of the most important and life-saving lessons we all learnt when we were in the river is how to use lifejackets. The key to staying alive is facing upwards, and letting you arms and legs loose. No matter what, never go face down into the water.

Our raft bobbed up and down as we negotiated the first rapid. The water gushed in as our instructor yelled “get in”, and in one swift movement we locked our paddles between the rope and our hands and kept our heads down until we passed the first one successfully. I wasn't afraid, because I figured the instructor knew what to do and appeared to be in full control. After all, he did this several times a day.

Rapid two. This one taught us never to take nature's fury for granted. Besides my husband and I, and the instructor, our little team included another 30-something couple and two single men. We were almost out of the rocky stretch of the river, when suddenly our raft lodged itself between three huge rocks. To make matters worse, another raft came charging towards us at full speed and hit us with such force that it created the “hammer and nail” effect. We were now completely and firmly stuck between the rocks. No one realized the extent of danger we were in. In a matter of seconds, our raft was completely filled with water. The only other option was to get off and stand on the rocks and try to dislodge the raft. The slippery rocks didn't help. One misstep meant getting washed away.

Try as we might, the raft didn't budge an inch. For the first time we realized our expert, let me call him Mr K to make narration easy, was absolutely clueless! The only other woman besides me in the raft looked absolutely terrified. Truth be told, none of us felt very brave either. Another thirty minutes passed, and we hadn't moved an inch. I looked around me, and saw the other raft that had pushed us into the rocks at a distance. The instructor on the second raft, equipped with only a whistle to communicate, was frantically waving his arms trying to tell us something. Meanwhile, realizing how much trouble we were in, another one of the tour organizers (I'm going to call him Mr. S) stood on one side of the river bank and tried tossing a rope towards us. The idea was to rappel to safety because the stubborn raft refused to move! The distance between the raft and the river bank was too great for Mr. S's rope to reach us. After several failed attempts, Mr. S decided to wade into the water and then try to toss the rope. This time it worked. Mr. K managed to catch hold of it and looked around to see which one of us was going to be the guinea pig. I don't know if it was her slight frame or the sheer terror in her eyes that made her the obvious, albeit unfortunate, choice. As we watched, Mr. K fixed one end of her lifejacket to the rope and urged her to cross over. No sooner was she in the water, when the rope slipped from Mr.S's hand. She was completely at the mercy of the river! We watched in shock and horror as she was swept downstream, her hands and legs thrashing about as she tried to come up for air. Lessons forgotten, face down, she rapidly swallowed water until she all but stopped moving. I can still hear her husband's heart wrenching screams when I close my eyes. All this while, Mr. K stood rooted to the spot. No attempts made to rescue her, because they assumed she was a lost cause. Realizing it was up to us amateurs to do something, we caught hold of the other end of the rope and started to pull her lifeless body towards us. She was like deadwood, as she came closer and closer. My heart was thumping in my chest as I prayed like I've never prayed before. We just hoped she was alive. Mr. K, at last coming to his senses, helped us haul her to the rock and thumped her on the back, until she coughed and spat water. She was alive! Too stunned to speak and in shock, but alive. Her husband was hysterical, poor bloke. But it wasn't over yet. We were still on the rock and the raft was still lodged firmly. I'd like to believe that the near-drowing of that poor woman brought some senses back into Mr. K's head. A sudden idea dawned on him that he should perhaps let some of the air out of the raft to lighten it enough for us to be able to tip it over and drain out the water. It worked!

After 2 horrifying hours, filled with morbid thoughts, there was finally some hope. The raft dislodged, we paddled back to the safety. We were soaking wet, rattled, but alive. As I stepped off the raft, onto solid ground, the gravity of the situation sank in. Those were two of the longest hours of our lives, where nothing else mattered. Hugging each other, we parted ways, the relief evident on our faces. As I walked, barefoot, holding my husband's hand tight, I realized that I had never felt more alive!

Quick Facts

Where to Stay: Kutta, Coorg. Plenty of home-stays available

Distance from Bangalore: Approximately 236 kilometers

Route to Take: Bangalore – Srirangapatna- Hunsur – Nagarhole – Kutta

Places to Visit: Nagarhole National Park, Tholpetty Wildlife Reserve, Irupu Falls, Thiunelly Temple, Barapole River Rafting ( At your own risk)